That '70s Chicago
by Riselike-BreakofDawn
Summary: At the end of "Love, Wisconsin Style," Donna runs away to California. In this fic, its Eric who runs away. In 1977 Chicago, its all about sex, drugs, rock, and disco. For one Point Place teen, its the perfect place to learn some things about life. (More details inside!) Rated a strong T for aforementioned subjects. Please give it a try!
1. More Than A Feeling

**Alright guys, let me explain this one...**

 **This is set at the end of the fourth season. In "Love, Wisconsin Style," Donna realizes that Casey's a jerk, and is totally embarrassed and hurt. She shows up in the basement and kisses Eric, trying to get back together with him, and he turns her down, not wanting to be a second choice to anyone. Hurt, Donna leaves, and she hitches a ride with Kelso to run off to California. Right? Right.**

 **Well, this fic is turning the tables a little bit. Eric goes to apologize to Donna, like in the episode. But before he gets there, things change. Eric's the one fed up, and Eric is the one running away. I'm writing this fic to give a little depth to Eric, who is my favorite character, and also, because I just finished up a crucial course about sociology in the 1960s and 70s, and this idea was stuck in my head.**

 **Since the show's writers played around with the timeline, I'm taking some liberties of my own. We're assuming its 1977, and Eric is probably 18, or close to it.**

 **Enjoy! And please read and review!**

….

Eric wasn't really watching the television. He couldn't have told you what was on at all. The sound was off, and he was just staring into space, thinking about what Donna had said as she'd left his living room. She had claimed that he wanted to break her and Casey up, that Casey dumping her was what he had been hoping for.

While she wasn't completely off base, she wasn't right either.

His plan had been to show Donna how stupid Casey was, and how their relationship was wrecking her life and changing her behavior. He just assumed that Donna would be the one showing Casey's sorry ass to the door. But instead, she was dumped in front of her friends and family, and her ex-boyfriend, and his parents. Few things could be worse.

When the basement door opened and his mother appeared, Eric wanted to ask for some privacy. He really wasn't in the the mood to have a heart-to-heart with anybody, much less his mom.

However, he stood abruptly when he saw that Kitty was not alone; Donna trailed behind her, her red-rimmed eyes cast down for a moment before they rested on his face.

His mother was talking, but all Eric saw was his ex-girlfriend. She had been crying, no doubt because of the ugly breakup with Casey Kelso only a half hour before. He had been so blasé about it...Donna was crushed…and Eric found himself wanting to run Casey over with his precious Trans-Am, if it meant ending her suffering.

However, he couldn't help but feel a little surprised, and guarded, about the fact that she was here now to talk to him. She had left their big "family meeting" with some choice words for him. Not that he blamed her, but still. He wasn't prepared to fight with her.

Their little public gathering, during which Casey admitted that he had repeatedly lied about loving Donna, had taken place some time around 7:20. It was just nearing 8 o'clock. Which means she'd had time to think about whatever she was going to say.

Eric could only manage a weak "Hi," which Donna quietly returned.

 _"_ _Hi?"_ he thought. _"That's it? That's the best you can do? Say something to her, dumbass!"_

Kitty eventually left them alone, and he put his hands in his pockets. There was so much awkward in the room he could practically taste it.

"So, uhm…" he began. "How are you?"

He knew that was a stupid question, but she shrugged and stepped closer to him. "Humiliated," she said. "I'm such an idiot."

He was about to disagree, when she continued. "I mean, I got dumped in front of the whole world. And I don't even…I don't even know what I said to your mom at the Hub, and I **hate** that she saw me like that."

She stepped back and asked, "What is wrong with me?"

"Hey, hey," he said, waving his hand as if to brush it off, like one might brush off a simpler problem. "Nothing. Your mom left. C'mon, you're allowed to freak out."

He'd meant to comfort her, but she only got more upset. "But everybody warned me about Casey, and I fell for him anyway! And he's such a jackass!"

It was almost funny, because it was so true, but Eric sighed and looked down.

"I really, really wanted you to figure that out, just…not like this."

"Eric, I'm just…" a little sob escaped her, and she started to cry. "I'm so sorry."

He couldn't take it anymore, and apparently, neither could she, because they reached for each other at the same time, and wrapped each other up in a tight hug.

"I'm sorry," she apologized again. "I was so stupid."

He didn't say anything else, because she broke the hug to look him in the face.

Then her lips locked with his.

His heart rate sped up a bit. He'd missed this; missed her. He'd missed kissing her. So he returned the kiss, secretly joyful.

She pulled away and looked at him again.

"Eric, we should be together."

"Wait, what?" he asked, confused.

"Let's, like, pretend all this other stuff never happened," she said, hugging him again.

 _Yes,_ he wanted to agree. _Let's start over._

But his stupid head, coupled by his stupid pride, intervened.

"Wait…wait…." he broke the hug again, and she looked at him with hurt and worry as he shook his head. "Donna, if you come running back to me now…."

Then he dealt the blow. "Donna, I can't be your second choice."

"But you're **_not_** ," she promised. Her voice might have sounded fierce or earnest, but a tiny sob, like a hiccup, caused her words to crack, and a few more tears escaped. She dragged in a shaky breath, and tried again. "Eric…"

As much as it hurt him to hurt her, he looked down and shook his head again. Donna turned and rushed for the door, yanking it open before she could break down completely.

Kitty stumbled into the room, clearly having listened in on their drama. Eric would have been angry at his mom for adding unneeded embarrassment to the situation, but Kitty seemed embarrassed herself.

"Oh..wha…where am I?" she said before bolting up the basement steps. With a final look back, Donna followed.

Eric's shoulders sagged and he plopped back down on the couch, face in his hands, regret almost immediately setting in.

Great. So now it was his fault, **_two times over_** , that they weren't together.

….Well, Kitty had heard the show, and was no doubt telling Red about it at that very moment.

Eric waited twenty minutes, then sighed and stood up, knowing that whatever he was about to face upstairs wasn't going to be pleasant.

He wasn't wrong. A whole lecture awaited him in the kitchen. Both Red and Kitty, for some reason annoyed at _his_ problems, were standing in front of the kitchen chair, which was pulled out and sitting alone in the middle of the room. Wow. Usually the chair was saved for only the worst lectures.

And this was one of the very worst, no doubt about it.

"So let me get this straight," Red began without pretense. Kitty looked on in exasperation. "Donna wanted to get back together, and you said no." He pointed his finger at Eric for emphasis.

"I said no," the teenager concurred.

" _You_ said _no!_ " Red repeated in disbelief.

There was a moment of silence, and then…

"Dumbass!" Kitty cried out finally, shaking her head.

Eric let that sink in, and attempted to explain himself. "Look, I have my reasons, okay?"

"What could they be? What could they possibly be?!" Kitty asked frantically.

"Casey dumps her, and then she just comes to me? I am not a rebound."

Red looked at his son as if he were mentally deficient, and enunciated every word so that he would understand. "So, you're to proud to take her back? And what do you have to be so proud of?"

Eric listened to the insults come, and a bizarre sort of pressure formed in his chest.

Red continued. "You're not an athlete, the only smart thing about you is your mouth… And look at you!"

Kitty shook her head. "Red, he looks fine, he's just so darn stupid!"

Eric frowned deeper and Kitty explained herself only by saying, "I am very upset!"

"Mom, stop. Okay?" her son said quietly. "Because I already feel bad enough as it is."

"Well you should!"

"Well I do, okay?" he said with more volume and a bit more anger. Then, once again sad, he admitted, "I love her."

After a moment he stood up and pushed the chair away.

"God, why do I always have to screw these things up, you know? Why does everything always have to be my way?"

Suddenly, it dawned on him in perfect clarity. "That's why we broke up in the first place."

Kitty was not having it. "Uh-huh, well, we've all known that for a year!"

"Okay, I have to tell Donna how I feel."

Eric ran out of the house and into the driveway, desperate to leave that uncomfortable conversation, and even more desperate to see Donna. He was going to beg for forgiveness, and then he was going to treat her better than he'd ever treated her before.

These plans were set in his mind until he turned and found himself in her front yard. The lights were all on, including the one in her bedroom.

But something stopped him.

He still wanted to go in and sweep her off her feet, wipe away her tears and make everything better. But he didn't.

He found that he didn't want to be standing there anymore. He wanted to be anywhere else but here. That pressure in his chest tightened further, and he felt like he was going to burst.

Eric turned on his heel and walked down the sidewalk, shoving his hands in his pockets.

 _What was wrong with him?! Donna was the other way around!_

The rational part of his mind begged him to go make things right, to end both their suffering, but the more emotional side couldn't help but throw its own pity party. Red's insults rang back at him until there didn't seem to be a single reason that Donna should deserve him. And what's more, his careful heart didn't want to just start over. Because it would end up the exact same way it had before.

Deep down, he knew that was right. They'd be together, until high school was over. Then she wanted to have her life and her career and her adventures. And despite the fact that he appreciated those things, she made it perfectly clear that he wasn't a necessary part of those plans. Now that they had been broken up for several months, he understood that, and respected her for it. But it still hurt, and it didn't change a thing. Eventually, some time in the future, he'd either ask her to wear his ring again, or he'd officially propose. And he knew that she probably wasn't going to be ready to settle herself down. But he couldn't put himself back in a relationship with a woman he loved so much, when he knew it would eventually have to end again.

These thoughts were jumbling and ringing like the white noise fanfare that played in A Day in the Life, just before Paul McCartney cut in with his happier verses that balanced out John Lennon's melancholy ones. The white noise seemed to grow and build, in his head and in his chest. He was overthinking it. He was causing himself unnecessary pain and stress.

He was about to lose it.

Eric was so caught up in his contemplation that he almost ran into Hyde, who was walking up the street, coming from the Hub.

"Woah, Forman, man, you alright?"

"Oh, hey Hyde. No…Donna came to talk to me."

Usually Hyde wouldn't care about this sort of thing, but Eric's somewhat dazed expression made him concerned.

"And?"

"And…she tried to get back together with me."

"Alright, man," Hyde congratulated, clapping him on the back."Then what do you look so miserable for?"

"I turned her down."

There was a pause, then Hyde smacked him upside the head.

"You turned her down? What were all those nights when you cried and bitched and moaned about her, then?"

"Look, Hyde, I already got a pretty good lecture from Red and Kitty, so I don't think this is necessary. I wanna tell her how I feel…I just…I don't see the point, you know? Cause then we'll be right back to where we started. And I don't know if that'll really make me happy anymore. I mean at first it obviously will. But then I'll never be able to stop thinking about the fact that as soon as we graduate, she'll be off living this big life, which is great, but I don't know if I can wait around for her, if there's no guarantee that she'll be back."

Hyde didn't exactly agree with Eric's actions, but he definitely understood the reasons. His parents had walked in and out on him enough for him to know that there's never a guarantee that they'd stay for good "this time." Who knew what would happen should Eric and Donna get back together, only to break up even worse than the first time?

But the most worrying thing about this was not Eric's words or actions, but his expression. He had this sort of crazed look that made him look like a caged animal.

"Hey, you feelin' alright, man? You don't look so good."

Eric didn't feel so good either. This desperate pressure in his chest had been growing along with the buzzing in his head, and he wanted to run until the stress burned off, to be somewhere else and someone else. He needed comfort that clearly his parents weren't offering, that Donna couldn't offer, that no one in Point Place could give.

"Yeah, I'm fine, its just-" Eric let out an impatient exhale. "I've gotta get out for a while." And as he said that, a crazy thought popped into Eric's head. In a moment of impulsiveness, he decided to follow that crazy thought.

"Okay man," Hyde said, understanding. "Just walk around for a bit. Blow off steam. You know, there's always the other way we blow off steam…"

Eric knew that Hyde was offering a circle session, but he declined. He needed to stay sober and clean if this was going to work.

"No thanks, I'm just gonna go for a walk."

Hyde nodded and clapped him on the back again, then went to move toward home. "Hey Forman, does that mean I can ask Donna out?"

Despite the poor timing and taste of the joke, Eric found himself snorting before gently punching Hyde in the arm. But after that he caught Hyde's wrist and pulled him in for a hug. Steven didn't like affection, especially in public, but he let Eric hug him before pulling away.

"Thanks, man," Eric said quietly before backing away. "Take care. See you around. Oh, and please don't tell my parents where I'm going?"

Hyde's brow furrowed as he watched Forman's retreating form for a minute. That goodbye seemed a little too heavy and formal considering they lived in the same house and Eric was just going for a walk. But the curly haired teen didn't say anything. Still, if he didn't want to be forced to tell Kitty and Red about Eric's bizarre behavior, he figured he might as well head back to the Hub for a while longer to hang out with Fez and Kelso. A glance at his watch told him it was only just nine at night. The night was still young.

…..

Eric's eyes widened at his own stream of consciousness. He knew this was dangerous, and if Red caught him he'd kick his ass to the moon. But for some reason, Eric was being pulled in that direction anyway.

At the moment, there was nothing left for him in Point Place.

But first…

He took the long way around the block so as not to run into Hyde again, and found himself staring at the back of his own garage.

Red didn't seem to be there, so Eric crept down into the basement and immediately went to the board games.

His Candyland stash of money was usually raided by Hyde, Fez, and Kelso, but there was still a good amount of cash there. After that, Eric turned to the Monopoly box and dug out a much larger wad of money, one that hadn't been discovered yet. He was constantly having to change up his board game hiding places. Thank goodness they hadn't found the Monopoly money.

He quickly climbed up the stairs and crept through the empty kitchen. Once he got to the door, he knew he had to take a risk. He didn't hear the TV, and assumed that no one was there.

His gamble paid off. Neither Red nor Kitty was in the living room. Which meant they were probably in…their bedroom.

Trying not to wince at the thought, Eric quickly snuck up to his bedroom and closed the door.

After taking a glance around his lair, he flew to his closet and dug out a sturdy backpack and a pullover sweater. Despite the warm weather (it was the beginning of summer, after all) he needed an extra layer of clothes, just in case. He hid his cash in his shirt pocket and pulled on the sweater. Next, Eric stuffed the backpack with a road map from his desk, his swiss army knife, and a few extra pairs of clothes. He also grabbed his wallet and put it in his pants pocket. Then, with a fond look at his belongings, he switched off his light and left, closing the door behind him.

The kitchen clock read ten, but he didn't even see, because he was too busy walking, with a purpose, down the street.

….

He instantly missed his Vista Cruiser, and wanted to take it with him. But he couldn't, he'd feel guilty taking his family car away from his parents. Walking would have to do, for now.

Once he reached city limits, he started sticking his thumb out, hoping for a ride. He knew it was dangerous, but he really couldn't bring himself to care.

Eventually a truck did pull over, and a tired looking middle-aged man stuck his head out the window.

"Where ya headed, kid?"

Eric looked back at Point Place and sighed. "Chicago. Could you give me a ride?"


	2. House of the Rising Sun

Without the Vista Cruiser, the journey to Chicago took several hours longer than it should have.

Eric had been to Chicago on several occasions; his parents had taken him every once in a while when he was younger, up until as recently as 1974, to see the finished Sears Tower. Since then, he'd been with his friends, to nightclubs once or twice, without his parents' knowledge. Looks like _that_ streak was still going strong. He felt a tiny twinge of guilt when he thought of how distraught his mother would be when she finally realized he was gone. But the need to get out was greater than his guilt, and he tried -and failed- to put Point Place out of his mind. If he concentrated on it for too long, Donna might creep into his thoughts, and she'd never leave…and that was the opposite of what he was trying to accomplish by escaping…

His thoughts jumbled and drifted. For the first time, he considered what it was he was actually trying to accomplish by leaving. If Donna were really the only problem, he could just stay at home for the rest of the summer and avoid her. But why even bother? It wasn't like they had just broken up, they'd been apart for a while now. Even if they did inevitably run into each other (for crying out loud, she lived right next door!) he could handle the pain and the awkwardness, right? And then sooner or later, things would more or less go back to normal. They always did.

But it wasn't just that. It wasn't just Donna.

This had been a long time coming.

While he did have a pretty good home life, Eric had been waiting to get out of his parents' house for a while now. Red made it abundantly clear that his career as their burden was nearing an end, despite the fact that Kitty wanted him to stay and be her baby forever. Red's constant "tough-love" strategy had worn thin, and the teen was reminded of his own words, uttered in anger some time before: "You get your shots in now, 'cause when I'm gone, I'm gonna be **long** gone!"

He had been talking about college, but that seemed so far away, and he supposed that running off to Chicago _was_ similar…in fact, it was very similar. He was going to a bigger, more diverse place, after all. Just like college.

Donna had been hesitant to wear his promise ring because she didn't want to be tied down; she wanted to see the world and experience new things and lead an exciting life.

What she didn't know was that he'd always wanted the same thing: adventure and romance and everything that went with it. The only difference was, where Donna's adventure had no definite end, his plans always seemed to end back up in that dinky little Wisconsin town, to settle down and be a married, stable adult.

Chicago had jumped into his thoughts the moment he had told Hyde "I've got to get out for a while." He felt the pull to the big city growing even as he got closer, like a planet sucked into the gravitational pull of the sun.

If he really wanted to avoid Donna, and nothing else, he could have spent some time a few miles away, in Kenosha. Hell, he could have claimed he wanted to visit Aunt Paula or his grandparents, or even Uncle Marty, and his parents would have shipped him off for the entire summer. They probably would have paid for the trip, too.

But if this wasn't just about Donna, then what was this about, really?

There were a million reasons. It was about him and his sense of self, his identity.

It was about the fact that the small-town life had suffocated even Eric Forman, and when those friends, those family members, and even the love of his life had let him down, he realized he'd seen everything he would ever see there. (He'd go back eventually, of course. His careful nature couldn't handle any thoughts to the contrary.) But in the meantime, he couldn't even stand the thought of being within city limits, which surprised him most of all. He had all those arguments for going to Chicago, but he couldn't think of one reason for staying in his home town.

And then everything snapped into place in Eric's mind, despite the rattling his head was being subjected to as he leaned it against the window of the bus.

He had so many reasons for going to Chicago. He couldn't really name them all. In fact, he could name hardly any. But maybe that was the most important reason: he had things to figure out. Things to learn.

And Chicago seemed to be the best teacher for the job.

 **…...**

Hyde slid the kitchen door back as quietly as he possibly could. He had waited at the Hub with Kelso and Fez for as long as they'd let them stay; once they'd kicked them out for the night, he took the long way back to the Forman House, hoping to the gods, whichever ones were listening, that Red and Kitty were asleep. They usually didn't wait up when the kids were out, especially during the summer, and Hyde prayed this would be the case tonight. He didn't know where Forman had gone, or how long he'd be roaming around, but there was no way that Steven was going to explain that to Red. He'd let Eric do that himself when he got back in the morning. A look at the clock on the wall told Hyde that it was just past midnight. Eric had only come to talk to him three hours before.

He froze as the door to the living room swung open and the kitchen light was flicked on. Kitty didn't see the teen right away, and when she did, she simply stopped to narrow her eyes at him in that mixture of suspicion and bemusement that she used so often.

"Steven, you're just getting home?"

"Hey Mrs. Forman," Hyde said, changing the subject. "What're you still up for?"

"Well," Kitty began, retrieving milk and cookies for him from the refrigerator and sitting next to him at the dinner table. "Couldn't sleep. I kept thinking about Eric and Donna. Did Eric tell you that she tried to take him back?"

"Yeah. He turned her down."

"Right, well, Red and I sort of lectured him about why that was so…"

"Stupid?"

"Well, yes," she admitted. "He felt pretty bad about it, and I thought he was going over to Donna's to apologize, but he hasn't been back since."

"I ran into him on his way out. Said he needed to get out for a while," Hyde said, electing not to mention how weird Forman had been about it. "We didn't see him or Donna at the Hub. He's probably just wandering around, or maybe he's with Donna and they're off talking."

"I don't think she's with him," Kitty disagreed. "Red ran into Bob while he was putting out the trash. Bob says Donna's been in her room all night."

Hyde nodded and finished the last bite of his cookie, as Red came in.

"Why are you still up?" he asked the two of them, sitting at the table and taking a cookie from the plate. "Eric asleep?"

"No, he's not home yet," Kitty said.

Red turned his attention to Hyde, annoyed. "Then where is he?"

Hyde leaned back in his chair and shrugged slightly. "Dunno. We thought he was probably just walking around town."

"If he doesn't get in by one o'clock, I'm going to kick-"

"Oh let him be, Red," Kitty admonished gently. "He's had enough trouble with Donna these past few months, he should be allowed to stay out and deal with his problems."

After a moment's thought, Red remarked, "Its weird he didn't take the Vista Cruiser."

After another moment, he added with a hint of suspicion. "Its very weird."

There was a beat of silence, then Hyde broke it by saying, "Well, I think I'm gonna turn in." He drained the last of his milk and stood up.

"Alright, sweetheart, goodnight," Kitty chirped, putting the dishes in the sink.

Hyde went downstairs, and Kitty followed Red upstairs.

However, she couldn't fall asleep, and instead chose to lie there and listen for the sound of the door opening. Even after Red's breathing turned to a faint snore, she glanced at the clock.

Worry set in when it was 1:30 in the morning and Eric had still not returned.

When she woke up at 9 and her son still wasn't home, that worry quickly turned into panic.

 **…...**

It had never taken Eric more than two hours to drive from Point Place to Chicago. It was only a state away, and on such a random night like this, there was no traffic to hinder car-travel. But he wasn't driving. In fact, the trip was a mixture of walking, hitchhiking, and busing, and as a result, it took approximately 8 hours of travel before Eric saw city lights, which were accompanied by the faint glow of a threatening sunrise.

After a few minutes of walking and an hour of hitchhiking, the youngest Forman had chosen to hop a bus and ride it all the way to his final destination. In theory, it was safer than walking or riding with a stranger, though some of the characters that got on and off were pretty rough looking. Most, however, looked more harmless and burnt-out than even Leo, but Eric still tried to act "natural" and fretted over the safety of his small wad of cash hiding in his pocket behind a thin layer of sweater. He didn't sleep a wink on the bus. Maybe his dad was right, he was too twitchy for his own good.

He perked up some when they reached city limits. By the time he saw the Sears Tower come into view, his heart rate had picked up some. He'd seen it several times before, but never alone, never like this.

He hadn't realized how stiff he was until the bus stopped and he stood up, wincing at all the multiple cracks and pops he heard from his own joints. It had been the longest day of his life, and he was thoroughly exhausted.

Eric stepped off the bus, threw his bag over his shoulder, and looked around. The weather was fairly pleasant; a light breeze was blowing in, and the sun was coming up, though the lights of the city skyline had not yet dimmed.

And how beautiful the skyline was. The buildings in front of him were so big he had to crane his neck to see their tops. Office lights pretended to be stars in what was left of the darkness. People milled about, of all shapes and sizes, and most interestingly, of all colors. That was new. Most of Point Place was a white bread suburban town. The population was generally not racist, and Eric himself was not racist in the slightest, but there just rarely seemed to be anyone who didn't look or even dress the exact same as the next person. That was another thing. Each outfit was different than the last on the streets of Chicago. Some were outrageous, some demure, but each was accompanied by an afro or "Farrah hair" or the pin-straight, down the back hairstyle that was leftover from the late 60s. And the men here had hair lengths to rival even Kelso's. Eric could just hear his father's disparaging comments. That alone caused a small smile to appear on his face.

Shoving his hands in his pockets, hunching his shoulders, and turning away from the crowd of people exiting the bus stop, Eric prayed that his skinny frame would tell any potential muggers that he had absolutely nothing worth stealing. (He knew from experience that he looked like an easy target…that he _was_ an easy target.)

The neighborhood he'd been dropped in didn't look too bad, even at night. Only a few blocks' walk found him a small, cheap-but-not-skeezy-looking hotel. The lady at the front desk was too chipper for someone working the ungodly late night shift, but he was too tired to notice, or to respond to her bright attitude with even a hint of sarcasm.

In fact, he was fading by the minute. it was a miracle he was able to find his own room, much less open the door and lock it behind him, because the moment his head hit the pillow, he was out.


	3. Go Your Own Way

Hyde woke to the sound of pounding in his head.

When he opened his eyes and sat up, he realized the pounding was going on _over_ his head. To be more specific, it was coming from the kitchen upstairs. Who the hell was running up and down the kitchen and living room at ten in the morning?!

Groaning and shoving his sunglasses on, Hyde trumped up the stairs and entered the kitchen to find a frantic Kitty Forman.

"Steven!" she cried without greeting. "Is Eric with you?"

"No, why? he asked groggily, not bothering to quip that it was obvious Eric was not with him.

"He didn't come home last night. His bed is still made and he's missing."

Hyde was instantly wide awake. Panic drifted into the edges of his thoughts, as he remembered Eric's erratic behavior the night before. All that was visible was the raised eyebrows that emerged from behind the sunglasses.

The sliding glass door opened and Red appeared. Steven wondered if that was fear that flashed across Mr. Forman's face.

"Anything?"

"No. I drove everywhere, not a sign of him. Steven, you're up. Good. Come on, we're going back out there. Maybe you'll know where the dumbass went."

The curt tone and name calling was doing a poor job of masking Red's worry.

"Red, you've been out there for over almost an hour now. If you haven't found him yourself, I think its time we called the police," Kitty said quietly, tears forming in her eyes.

The head of the Forman household stood there for a moment, then sighed.

"Steven," he said. "Do you remember what Eric was wearing last time you saw him?"

"Uh…" Hyde thought back. "Brown pants, belt, and that button up shirt."

"Oh that's right," Kitty agreed. "The colored plaid shirt."

Red nodded as he dialed the kitchen phone. He only had to wait a moment before he was saying, "Yes, hello Officer. This is Red Forman. My son Eric is missing."

...

Eric awoke feeling more refreshed than he had in a long time. He had slept hard all through the day, not stirring even once- it was that rare kind rest that ended with a feeling of heaviness, from having been immobile so long. That, coupled with a pattern of blanket imprints on his skin, gave him a feeling of satisfaction. He hadn't even taken his shoes off or emptied his pockets before tumbling into bed the previous night. Or was it the previous morning? A look at his watch told him it was close to six in the evening. He had slept for twelve hours.

And since he couldn't recall his last meal, it was probably time for the next one.

A quick walk down the block found Eric at a small hole-in-the-wall restaurant, where he ordered some food and sat alone, finally coming to grips with what he had done.

He _ran away from home_. Successfully. He was in a totally different state.

 _"Wait a minute. I'm in a totally different state!"_

Regret once again crept into his emotions. Kitty always woke up no later than 9:30, and when he didn't come down for breakfast, she probably sent Red up there to drag him down. He could see his mother's panic when they finally realized that he wasn't home. He could see her horror when Red searched high and low over Point Place and found no trace of their son. He wondered whether or not Red would be truly worried. But perhaps most of all, the young runaway felt bad that he'd left Hyde there alone, after making his friend believe that he was just going out on a stroll. Hyde liked to pretend he was impervious to sentiment or emotions, but he didn't react well to people leaving him out of the blue. Who could blame him?

Eric looked down at his plate and finished off the last of his hamburger and fries, then paid and left.

 _Now what?_

He hated to admit it, but this whole situation suddenly seemed very stupid. He was alone in a strange city, with limited funds and no plan. During the whole trip to Chicago he repeatedly turned over the answers to the why and the where. He never once thought about what or how.

For how long was he staying? How would he go about using this city to the fullest? If he stayed for too long, he would have to get a job to support himself, which didn't bother him, but where would he work?

He was jarred from his worries as a young man with long hair skateboarded past him, almost knocking Eric over.

"Hey, wake up, Mick Jagger!" the guy called in annoyance without stopping to look back.

Eric just stood there in confusion. Had the guy just called him Mick Jagger?

"Its because you're skinny," a new voice called.

The Point Place teen looked around until his eyes rested on a young couple, both with cigarettes in hand. They looked to be about two or three years older than him; the young woman was the speaker.

"What?" he managed to ask as he stepped out of the way of more oncoming pedestrian traffic.

"You're skinny like Mick Jagger. That's why he called you that. You looked confused."

"Oh…." he wasn't sure if he should be offended or flattered. He opted for flattered. "Thanks, I guess."

He looked up and saw that they were standing in front of a record store. Fliers for upcoming concerts, big and small, were hanging up in the window.

He could tell that the couple was watching him curiously.

"Hey man, you on something? Not that I'm judging, but you probably shouldn't be walking around outside," the guy called. He was dressed very similarly to Eric in modern street clothes, but he wore a fringed suede jacket, the likes of which Eric had only seen in movies and TV.

"I…uh…sorry…"

Without another word, he continued on his way. The concerned couple watched him turn and walk further down the street, tightening his shoulders and shoving his hands into his pockets.

It was still early in the evening when he got back to his hotel room. Eric kicked himself for his stupidity. What the hell had he been thinking coming here alone?

His parents were probably losing their minds with worry. Well, not Red, but Kitty definitely.

 _"I should call them..."_

But despite his regret, he didn't feel so guilty as to head back home. Regardless of his doubts on whether or not he was right to come to Chicago, he felt deep down that he was right to leave Point Place.

Still, his parents deserved to know that he was alive.

Eric picked up his room phone and slowly dialed the number. Sucking in a deep breath, he steadied himself for whatever fresh hell this was going to be.

"Here we go…" he said to the empty room.

...

Police officers had been coming and going all day. Point Place isn't too large of a town, and within hours it had been scoured from the reservoir to the water tower, to the park. No stone was unturned, and yet there was no sign of Eric.

"Is there any reason that your would have for running away?" an officer had asked Kitty some time in the early afternoon.

"Run away? Do seventeen year olds run away?" Kitty had asked in frustration.

Since Hyde was the last person to see Eric before he disappeared, the cops repeatedly asked him the same questions over and over:

"How did he look before you two parted?"

"I don't know, he looked stressed. He'd just had a fight with his ex or something."

"So he was distressed?"

"Yeah, sure."

"Enough to resort to...drastic measures?"

This question sent Kitty into hysterics, and made Red and Hyde both bristle in anger.

"No. He was just going for a walk. Then he was supposed to come home."

"The last time you saw him was on the street in this neighborhood."

"For the hundredth time, yeah. That was the last time."

After an hour of this questioning, the officers had no more information than they'd started with.

By the time five o'clock had rolled around, the officer in charge was standing to leave. "I'll make some calls to other districts tonight. Tomorrow we'll widen the search. But if we haven't found anything by this point, it might be smart to bring in a detective who is familiar with kidnappings. Foul play might have been involved.

"Oh my god," Kitty wailed.

"I'll get in touch with you tomorrow morning. Be sure not to tie up the phone lines. Your son might call, or someone with information on his whereabouts."

With that, the officer bade them goodnight.

"A fat lotta good that does us!" Red said angrily. "Damn cops work for hours, and nothing!"

But noticing Kitty's distress, he moved to give her a hug. "Don't worry, Kitty. Everything's going to be fine."

"You're right," Kitty sniffed. "We need to stay positive."

"That's right."

"I need to bake a cake."

Red sighed and watched as his wife began bustling about the kitchen, but said nothing, knowing that it was how she dealt with stress.

...

Kitty was starting the crust for a second pie when the phone rang. Red and Steven's heads shot up just as Kitty lunged for the little machine, almost ripping the thing out of the wall.

"Hello?" she said urgently.

 **"** **Mom?"**

"Eric!" she cried out as tears of joy sprang to her eyes. Red and Steven stood and came closer. "Oh honey where are you? Are you alright? What happened?"

 **"** **Calm down, Mom,"** Eric said gently. **"I'm fine. I'm sorry for scaring you."**

"Where are you?" she asked again.

 **"** **I'm…uh….I'm out of town. I'm in a hotel."**

The vague answers made his mother nervous. "Eric is someone with you? Is someone making you say these things?" (She'd seen it on TV once, and the idea of her son being held by some maniac was too much.)

 **"** **No! Mom, I promise. I'm ok."**

"Where is he-" Red began to ask, but he was cut off by a strong shush from his wife.

 **"** **I just needed to get away for a while. I had a lot on my mind."**

"When are you coming home?" Kitty asked, reigning in her anger that Eric had worried them over seemingly nothing. "Eric if this is about Donna-"

 **"** **It isn't about Donna, ok? And I… don't know when I'm coming home."**

Anger finally triumphed over relief. "You put us through all of that worry and frustration, because you 'had a lot on your mind,' and you won't tell me where you are or when you're coming back? Eric Forman, you tell me what's going on right now!"

Red reached out for the phone and took it before his wife started getting hysterical again. "Eric?"

 **"** **Dad?"**

"Are you really ok?"

 **"** **Yeah Dad, I…I'm fine."**

"Then what the hell is wrong with you?!" he started ranting. "Do you know how much you've upset your mother? We called the police! Steven and I spent hours out looking for you. I swear I will put my foot so far up your ass-"

 **"** **Dad,"** Eric interrupted quietly. Red was stopped by the small plea. Eric always rode out the lectures; rarely ever did he stop them in the middle. Also, the tone of Eric's voice was soft, yet emphatic. There was a small amount of force (or desperation, Red couldn't tell) that had never been in Eric's speech before.

 **"** **Dad, remember when you told me that you came out of Korea a different person than you were when you went in, and how even though Grandma and Grandpa were mad that you joined the army without their permission…even though you saw some bad things…you didn't regret it because it made you who you are now?"**

Without waiting for Red to answer, he continued.

 **"** **This is just something I have to do."**

The eldest Forman was shocked at his son's explanation, but oddly, he understood perfectly.

 **"** **Tell mom I'm sorry for scaring her, and that I love her."**

"When are you coming home?"

Eric was clearly surprised at how well Red was taking this. He hadn't expected him to understand.

 **"I'm not sure. But definitely before school starts in September, I promise."**

"Where are you?"

Eric paused, then said, **"Out of state."** Red frowned but didn't push it.

"Take care of yourself, son."

 **"** **I will Dad. And thanks….is Hyde there?"**

Red handed the phone off to Hyde, then went to comfort a distraught Kitty.

"Forman, man, where are you?"

 **"** **Hey Hyde. Sorry for running off like that. I didn't think I was going to be doing anything but walking until I talked to you."**

"So what happened?"

 **"** **Hyde, you can't tell anyone. Not even my parents, ok?"**

"Just spill it, Forman," Hyde said, glad that his friend was alright, but mad that he ran out without explanation.

 **"** **I'm in Chicago."**

"Why?"

 **"** **I just…I needed to get away from everything, and I thought, 'what's the complete opposite of Point Place?' Chicago."**

"Fair enough. When are you coming home?"

 **"** **Not sure. But before school starts."**

Hyde didn't even know to acknowledge his feelings as a mixture of relief and hurt, so he pushed the feelings away entirely. "Take care of yourself, Forman."

 **"** **You too, Hyde. And I really am sorry."**

With that, the phone call ended, with everyone involved, on both ends of the line, going off to bed. No sleep would be had, because everyone would be too busy digesting their mixed feelings of guilt, sadness, and anger.

Eric laid back and flipped on the TV, then proceeded to ignore an hour's worth of Bonanza reruns.

...

The sun had already been down for a while by the time Eric felt up to going out. Once again, he had no idea what he was doing, but he knew that if he sat in his hotel room long enough, he was either going to chicken out and head back to Point Place, or he was going to go insane thinking about Donna. He still couldn't get her out of his head.

Chicago was a lot like any city in the sense that it didn't ever seem to quiet down or sleep; Eric knew that much from previous visits. What he'd never realized was that the city not only stayed awake when the sun went down, it seemed to come alive with a new energy. More people were out on the sidewalk than he'd seen all day, and traffic sounds and lights were only intensified in the dark and the quiet.

Guilt had plagued him since hanging up on the phone call to his family, though he did feel better that they knew he wasn't dead or kidnapped or something.

He passed a bar, then backtracked and decided to go in. But he paused in the doorway and stepped back out into the street, indecisive.

Realizing they'd probably want some sort of ID, Eric turned away and headed back in the direction he came from. Hyde was the one who always supplied the fake ID when they'd go out for a drink…but then again, Hyde could lie. Eric was a terrible liar. No, better not risk it.

Just as he was beginning to feel particularly depressed, he looked up and saw the tip of the Sears Tower, just a couple of blocks away. The sight of the tower had excited him when he'd seen it the night before, and the youngest Forman had to admit- it sort of gave him chills even now.

He was the last person in the door before visitor hours ended for the night, much to the annoyance of the people who admitted him. Eric boarded an elevator and rode it all the way to Floor 103, where he exited the elevator and stepped into the skydeck.

The view was incredible.

Lights flashed from every angle. The splendor of the city was magnified, and breathtaking from this high up. Eric felt that he'd be able to see every thing and every one. He was in the tallest building in the world. And crazily enough, he was pretty sure he could feel the building ever so slightly swaying in the wind.

As he stared out over Chicago, Eric smiled to himself. He remembered how Point Place had looked from the water tower, and how lame, how dim, how primitive it seemed in comparison to **this**.

That pressure began to build in his chest once more, but this time, it was a pleasant feeling. It wasn't stress or sadness or anger, but a nice cocktail of adrenaline and dopamine.

He was in the highest building in the world, in the best city of the midwest.

He had gotten himself there.

Even if he didn't know what to do, he could do anything he wanted.

Eric wanted to jump off the top of the building, then run through the city until there were holes in his shoes. For the first time since he'd arrived, he truly felt that he could do anything.

The world was his.

Leaving the Tower, Eric ran down the street, past his hotel, past the record store.

Where to? He didn't know. But that was the best thing about it.

He was, for the first time in over a year, truly alive.

...

 **a/n: hey everyone! thanks for being so patient. things will start picking up soon, both in the story and in updates. (reviews help me write, they really do!)**


	4. I Get Around

Eric's carefree sprint down the sidewalk was brought to a halt when he came to an interesting looking nightclub. A long line curled around the front of the building from its entrance in the back. The people standing in line were wearing mostly street clothes, so Eric assumed he wouldn't stick out too much. However, some die-hard clubbers were dressed to the nines in glam and disco suits. The woman in front of him in line had the most outrageous go-go boots he'd ever seen. But the place looked fun, and Eric decided to give it a go.

By some miracle of heaven, he got in. The bouncer hardly glanced at him before waving him through. Apparently, the joint wasn't too exclusive.

But Eric wasn't bothered by the "quality" of the crowd. He was just happy to sit on the sidelines and watch the display. Young adults danced in close proximity to each other to the sounds of various disco and pop tunes, infused with the occasional rock song. This club served up a playlist that Hyde would deem "crap," the same kind that Fez would use as an excuse to samba. It was exciting, so say the least. A disco ball threw color on the walls and across the faces of the dancers, currently jamming to ABBA.

He felt like Luke Skywalker when Obi-Wan Kenobi took him to that cantina on Tatooine. A new place, unfamiliar and potentially dangerous. Who knows what kind of adventure he might get into?

Deciding to take a chance, Eric wandered over to the bar, where he shouted over the din to the bartender.

"I'll have a beer!"

The bartender gave him a weird look, and for a minute Eric thought he might ask for proof of age. But the guy shrugged and produced a large glass. Since the teen didn't specify what kind of beer he'd want, he got it from the tap, instead of in a bottle. Inconvenient in a crowded place where people keep bumping into you, but that was the absolute last thing on Eric's mind. He was overjoyed at getting away with such a thing, and carefully navigated his way back to a small table, where he watched the dancing continue.

He was almost finished with his drink when a young girl, who appeared to be his age, came up to him.

"Hi!" she called over the music.

"Hi," the Wisconsinite replied, looking up at her in surprise.

"I'm Heather," she said, sitting without waiting to be invited. She was brunette and petite, and very pretty besides. Leaning in towards him and flirting shamelessly, the girl definitely got Eric's attention.

"Eric," he responded, trying and failing to look cool by taking a too-large swig of his beer.

"You're cute," she said, getting right to the point. "Wanna dance?"

"With you? I mean, sure!" he said, standing and following her to the dance floor. Some pop song he didn't recognize started playing, and it was at that moment that Eric remembered that he didn't really know how to dance.

He decided to dance with Heather the same way he danced with Donna: instead of trying to impress her, he made overly dramatic disco moves in an attempt to make her laugh.

It worked. She giggled and played along, which made him smile. It looked stupid to the outsider, but Eric was having the time of his life.

When the song ended, they drifted back to the bar, where they ordered more drinks and talked over the music for a minute. Eric was just about to ask her to dance again when a lumbering, and very drunk, man came up to them and grabbed Heather by the arm.

"Greg!" she said in surprise.

"Hey man," the guy said, standing over Eric. "You hitting on my girlfriend?"

"What? No!" Eric said frantically, holding his hands up in a gesture of peace. "We were just talking."

"Oh really? Then why'd I see you dancing with her?"

"I really don't think you could've called that dancing," Eric quipped in spite of himself.

"You try'na be funny?" Greg slurred angrily.

"No, no-"

"Leave him alone," Heather said, but her boyfriend brushed her off. Several people turned to watch the argument.

"Stay outta this. You shouldn't be dancing with other guys in the first place."

"Maybe if you weren't such a pig-"

Her boyfriend interrupted her by pushing her away, and when Eric tried to intervene, worried for her safety, Greg turned and decked him in the face.

Luckily the jerk's intoxication prevented him from fully hitting the young Forman, but it was enough to knock him backwards.

By this time, the bouncer appeared and took each man by the collar and pulled them to the entrance, where they were promptly tossed into the night.

The drunken Greg stumbled off, forgetting Eric, and Heather stopped to apologize for her boyfriend's actions before turning and following him down the back alley. Eric could hear her chewing him out even after they turned the corner and made it back onto the sidewalk.

"So much for that," Eric muttered as he brushed himself off and wandered back down the street. Still, his spirits weren't completely decimated, and he was secretly satisfied with himself. His first real night in Chicago, and he'd been to the top of the Sears Tower, danced at a nightclub (with a girl!) and got into a fight.

He felt the swelling around his eye and winced. It hurt, but it hadn't even knocked him down, which was an improvement from the last time he'd been punched in the face. He'd have a black eye tomorrow, but it wouldn't last long.

Deciding to call it a night, Eric made his way towards his hotel. He was only a block away from his destination when a rough pair of hands grasped him by the shoulders and yanked him into an alley.

"Hey-" he began, but was cut off by an abrupt command.

"Give me your money!"

"I don't have any money-" Eric began again. It was actually true. Most of his cash was in his hotel room. He'd spent what he had with him at the club.

"You're lying," the guy said, and though Eric couldn't see his face in the darkness of the alley, he did see the small blade the guy had in his hand.

"No really-" he cut himself off when he jumped out of the way of the knife. It missed his torso but nicked his forearm, and while he was distracted by the injury, the mugger took the opportunity to clock Eric in the face.

For the second time that night, Eric took the hit, but this time it knocked him to the ground.

He was stunned, and the collision with the concrete made his vision go fuzzy.

Eric felt the mugger going through his pockets when he heard another masculine voice shout, "Hey!"

The criminal took off, and the sound of his footsteps echoing against the alley walls was the last thing Eric heard before darkness overtook him.

…..

Eric regained consciousness less than an hour later, and found himself staring at a ceiling lit by plain florescent lights. He blinked at the abrupt assault on his eyes and groaned. One of his eyes wouldn't open more than a fraction of the way, and when he tried to touch it he was punished with a jolt of pain.

"You're finally awake!" a voice said gently, though it was coming from his left side -the swollen side- and Eric had to sit up and shift his whole body so that he could put the source in his line of sight.

It was a young woman. She was not much older than him, with voluminous blonde hair and a kind face. Eric couldn't remember when, but he'd seen her somewhere before.

"We were afraid that you weren't going to wake up. I was about ready to take you to the hospital…"

He looked around and found that he was sitting on a mat in the back of a record store. Rows and rows of vinyl greeted him and large posters of various rock stars lined the walls. The front windows revealed that it was still dark out, letting him know that he hadn't been out for too long.

It was then that he remembered this place. He'd passed it multiple times since he'd arrived. With that memory came the recognition of this stranger; she was one half of the couple that had watched him almost get run over by a skateboard- the girl that had told him he looked like Mick Jagger.

"What happened…?"

"You were mugged in the alley next door. Its a good thing my boyfriend found you when he did. We patched you up ok, I think. You were only unconscious for about an hour."

"Which is a shock, considering how swollen your face is," a man's voice could be heard from directly behind Eric. The injured teen tried to turn around, but his head hurt too much and he gave up on the idea. Noticing this, the new speaker walked around to face him.

The man looked to be almost thirty, with a long face, dark hair and thick eyebrows. He must have been taller than Kelso, maybe even taller.

"Richard Thomson. Ritch."

"He owns the store," the girl explained.

"How're you feeling, kid?" Ritch asked.

"Uh…I have a headache…"

The blonde handed him ice wrapped in a small dish-towel, which he gratefully took.

"You're lucky that Aaron found you before that dillhole killed you," his nurse murmured. "He did get your arm though."

Eric looked down at the small bandage wrapped around his arm.

"Hey, is the kid awake?" a friendly male voice called from the back. The guy who had been standing out in front of the store with the blonde girl, presumably her boyfriend, appeared. He was wearing the same outfit he had on earlier in the day, when he'd asked if Eric was "on" something.

"Hey babe," Eric's nurse called softly as the new arrival came to sit on the ground next to her. He looked vaguely like George Harrison around the time of the 'Let it Be' album, just a bit younger, and without much facial hair, though he did have a decent pair of sideburns.

"I'm Aaron," he said kindly, taking a closer look at the swollen eye Eric was sporting. "Jesus, this guy must have hit you with a boxing glove."

"Actually, I already had a black eye, he just made it worse."

"Who gave you the black eye in the first place?" the girl asked.

"Uh, some guy in a club punched me."

"You're must be a popular guy," Ritch said. Eric snorted.

"What can I say, people just can't keep their hands off me."

Ritch smiled. "I like this kid."

"Here," the young woman said, directing him to put the ice back on his face. "I'm Joy, by the way."

"Eric."

"Well, Eric," Aaron said. "Something tells me you're new to Chicago."

"That obvious? I didn't have any money for him to take, anyway..."

"No, every dude gets mugged here at least once. But stumbling through street traffic and getting yourself punched in a nightclub does give it away."

Eric was surprised, but not offended by this man's words. No one in Point Place was this straightforward without being mean.

"Where are you staying?" Ritch asked, leaning against the wall, still standing.

Eric named his hotel, and the older man nodded.

"Not bad," he said. "How old are you, anyway?"

"Seventeen…almost eighteen," Eric said. "What about you guys?"

"I'm nineteen, Aaron's twenty-one, and Ritch is twenty-eight," Joy informed.

The talk went on like this for a long while. Eric, finally having people to talk to, explained why he came to Chicago from Point Place, and how he'd ended up with a black eye from the ever-so-chivaric Greg.

The three were genuinely interested in Eric's story. For one thing, they had all been new to the city at one time or another, and could relate. Also, they found the idea of running away to be exciting in Eric's case, since he seemed so young and innocent in appearance.

Eventually Eric, with the help of his three new friends, attempted to stand. When he was finally on his feet, he sighed.

"Well, I'd better get back. Thanks you guys for your help. Really."

"Not a problem," Aaron said. "Come by any time. We don't work here, but we hang out."

"They're always here," Ritch called playfully from the counter. "Scaring away customers."

"Yeah right, man," Aaron replied, walking Eric to the door. "Think you can get to your hotel alright?"

"Yeah. Thanks again," Eric said before leaving the shop. Like the night before, he was so weary he could barely walk straight. This time, however, he was careful to change out of his clothes, and had to lie down gingerly to keep from irritating his raw face. The dull pain did little to hinder his sleep, though, and he was quickly back into the realm of unconsciousness.

 **a/n: thank you so much to my reviewers! just so you all know, the names of the chapters are classic rock and pop songs. I figured you already know this, I just wanted to say that those songs are of course not mine; I'm just borrowing the titles! Also, these songs all were released any time from 1977 or before- I only wanted to use songs that Eric would have listened to by this point in time. please keep reviewing, you guys!**


	5. Walk This Way

**A/N: Hey y'all! Thank you so much for your support and reviews! I love you guys! This one's just a filler, and the next one is already on its way! It should be out either late tonight or tomorrow.**

Donna hadn't left her room since her conversation with Eric in his basement. Despite her father's coaxing and cajoling, she would not come out. Even Joanne, her father's girlfriend, had sincerely expressed her concern and understanding, bringing Donna food when she didn't come down for dinner.

The morning after Eric had called home to tell his parents that he was okay, Donna peered out of her window to see if the gang had gathered in the Forman house as always. No one appeared to be there, so she got dressed and made her way to the Hub.

She was embarrassed at what had happened over the previous days, and was glad that none of her friends had come to try and cheer her up.

As she made her way down the sidewalk, she wondered how on earth things were going to return back to normal. First, she figured she would apologize to her friends for how she'd treated them while dating Casey. Next she would attempt to patch things over with Eric and carry on with their friendship. More anxious than she'd ever been to see her friends, Donna pushed open the door of the Hub and went in.

She had been correct in guessing they'd be here. Fez, Jackie, Kelso, and Hyde were sitting around a table, various plates of fries and sodas sitting between them.

But for some reason, Eric was not there.

When Donna approached them, her friends looked up at her with a disturbing combination of sympathy, worry, and sadness. Even Jackie seemed bothered by something.

"Hey guys," Donna said awkwardly, sitting when Hyde pulled a chair over from the next table over for her. "Where's Eric?"

Hyde and Kelso shared a nervous glance, each challenging the other to tell her what was wrong. Jackie did it for them.

"Eric ran away," she blurted out. "The police were looking for him all day yesterday."

"Jackie, he did not run away," Fez corrected. "Hyde knows where he went."

Hyde started, almost imperceptibly, but did not admit it. How did Fez always know these things?

"All I know is he skipped town," Hyde lied, trying to infuse some bitterness into his voice. It would have fooled anyone who didn't know him very well, and Kelso, but Donna, Jackie, and Fez could tell that he wasn't telling the truth. The bitterness was halfhearted, and nothing like the way he spoke about his parents.

"Uh-huh, so where is he?" Fez pushed, leaning in.

"I don't know!"

Meanwhile, Donna was trying desperately to conceal her shock and worry. Eric was gone? Why would he just…leave?

Was it because of her?

"I'm not telling you, Fez! Stop asking!" Hyde was saying.

Ah-ha! So you do know where he is," Jackie interjected.

Hyde simply took a sip of his coke.

"If we guess, will you tell us?" Kelso asked enthusiastically.

"Hyde didn't respond, but Kelso began to guess random places anyway.

"How about Kenosha? Is it in the state? Did he go to California? New York? Is Eric actually a spy? Did he go to kill someone for the president?"

"Kelso, shut up!" Hyde groaned.

"Yeah, Michael. Eric's not cool enough to be a spy," Jackie said. "He's not handsome or strong. Or dangerous."

Hyde frowned and cocked one eyebrow out from behind his sunglasses, wondering just how drastically Jackie's tune would change if he revealed that Eric had hitchhiked to Chicago in the middle of the night. But he kept his mouth shut.

It was quiet for a minute, before Donna decided it was the right time to speak her mind.

"Guys," she sighed. "I'm really sorry about how I acted when I was with Casey. I was a jerk."

"Yeah you were," Jackie said, but everyone ignored her comment.

"Donna, it is okay," Fez said and Hyde responded with "Its cool."

"Surprisingly, it was Kelso who made her feel better./div

"Donna, its okay. Casey's bad news. I love him, but he's a jerk to everyone. Its not your fault."

"She wasn't sure if she agreed that her behavior wasn't her fault, but she appreciated the compassion. "Thanks, Kelso," she said, glad that at least she could make amends with most of her friends.

"So when is Eric coming back?" Kelso asked Hyde.

"He said before school started," Steven admitted.

"Wait, you talked to him?" Donna asked.

"He called last night," Hyde said.

"Can we call him?" Kelso asked excitedly, hoping to ask Eric if he was a spy.

"He didn't leave a number."

Donna put that thought aside, hoping that if Eric did call again, she might be able to talk to him. Wherever he was, she knew she would most likely not be able to get it out of Hyde.

"I cannot believe he would just leave," Fez said.

"He'll be back," Donna said, feigning confidence. Honestly, if it were her, she probably wouldn't come back to Point Place.

That being said, she was floored by Eric's actions. In fact, of all the teens in their group, Eric was the least likely to leave town, save perhaps Jackie. He was the most cautious, the most level-headed, and the only one who had never really expressed much interest in living anywhere else.

Apparently, they had all been wrong.

...

It was only 9:30 in the morning, and already Kitty had baked a cake, two pies, and multiple servings of pancakes. She also had a meatloaf cooking while she squeezed fresh lemonade. It was her way of dealing with stress- as she had told Laurie when Grandma Forman had died, "Busy hands are happy hands!"

Red revealed very little about what Eric had said to him on the phone, though he did promise that he would be back by the end of the summer. However, Kitty knew that whatever Eric had said to Red had changed his opinion on their son. Whether that was a good thing or not, she didn't know.

A timer dinged, and she put on oven mitts so as to retrieve the meatloaf. After she exhausted their pantry of supplies, she planned to deep clean the house, maybe organize her closet, and then go to the store to get more ingredients for other recipes. Just as long as she had something to do. The moment she stopped working, she would begin to think about Eric, and she would dissolve into a teary, sobbing mess.

Mrs. Forman set the meatloaf onto the stovetop to cool a few minutes. It would make a nice dinner. She knew they couldn't eat all of this food by themselves…maybe she could give one of the pies to Bob and Joanne….

...

Eric woke up feeling insanely sore, but at least both eyes could open all the way.

Sitting up slowly and gingerly, he raised a hand to his head and found that the swelling had almost completely gone down. A quick glance in the mirror wasn't encouraging- the bruises covered almost half of his face- but he felt better than he looked.

Groaning as he pulled on his last clean pair of clothes, he realized that he was soon going to have to buy new clothes, and locate a washing machine.

The hotel offered a complimentary breakfast, but the breakfast was better at a diner across the street, so that is where Eric decided to eat.

The waitress who served him expertly avoided staring at his bruises, although surrounding customers sure didn't. Ignoring their collective gaze, Eric ordered pancakes and coffee, sitting at a booth in the back.

When he was done, he found himself wandering back towards the record store, feeling that he had to once again thank the people who had saved his life.

However, when he arrived at the store, there was an unfamiliar young woman behind the counter. She had thick dark hair that fell across her shoulders. There was a very reserved air about her, but she smiled warmly when she welcomed him into the store. Clearly of Native American descent, she was very beautiful.

"Hi, are you looking for any particular album?" she asked, obviously trying not to look at his bruised face.

"Actually-" Eric began, but stopped when a door to the back of the store opened, and Aaron entered.

"Hey, Eric's back!" he called, coming over to clap him on the shoulder. "How're you feeling' kid?"

"Wait, you're Eric?" the girl behind the desk said. "I heard a lot about you last night. I'm Valerie."

"You should have seen his face last night, Val," Aaron said. "His eye was swollen shut. How's your arm?"

"Better than last night, thanks to you," Eric said, pulling back the bandage to inspect the wound. It had begun to heal, though it probably should have been stitched. It was going to leave quite an impressive scar.

"Don't sweat it," Aaron said. "I've been roughed up two or three times myself."

At that moment, Ritch came in from the back.

"How're you feeling, Eric?"

"Still alive."

"Good," Ritch smiled, rounding the counter and kissing Valerie. "I see you've met my wife."

"Wife?" Eric asked, eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"I didn't…I mean…"

"He's kidding," Valerie assured him with a gentle smile.

"You've got to hear this kid's story from the beginning," Ritch said to his wife.

So, with enough prompting, Eric recounted his story, explaining how he'd broken up with Donna, how she'd tried to get back together with him, and how he had been struck with the crazy idea to hop a bus to Chicago in the middle of the night. He followed that with his experience at the nightclub, and then his subsequent mugging.

Valerie listened in fascination; even though everyone in the city had an interesting backstory, Eric's had such a hopeful end to it, that she couldn't help but be taken by the young man.

Aaron shook his head at the story, even though he'd heard it the night before. "I admire your guts, but at this rate you'll be dead before the end of the month."

"…So I got that to look forward to…" Eric snarked, trying to hide his disappointment at the discouraging words.

"You've definitely got the stones to live here," Ritch conceded. "You just have to wise up."

"Joy and I were gonna go out tonight. You should come, see what a real nightclub looks like. We'll make sure you don't get jumped or hit this time."

At Eric's hesitation, he added, "We'd be happy to take you man, its what friends do."

The Point Place teen happily accepted, then realized that there was something, or rather, someone, missing.

"Where is Joy?"

"Oh, she's at work," Aaron shrugged. "She'll be off at four. She's a secretary. "

Eric blinked. He'd only known her for a day, yet he had a hard time reconciling the sweet, young, metropolitan Joy with such a mundane job as that. He vaguely heard Aaron invite Valerie and Ritch out as well. They accepted readily.

That was another thing- since when were married people cool?

The only real married couples Eric had known were his parents, and the parents of his friends. Red and Kitty were awesome individuals, and their marriage was very modern in the sense that Red didn't push Kitty around- as if she'd allow it.

Of course, Donna's parents were nice people, but certifiably insane. They weren't cool, or young, and they certainly didn't own record stores or go out to nightclubs.

Granted, Ritch and Valerie were both under the age of thirty, but still. Eric assumed that after marriage, A couple just slipped into a sort of coma that was equal parts domesticity and happiness. Donna had assumed the same thing, which is why they broke up in the first place- he wanted that, she didn't.

Never did it occur to them that things were different for their generation. _"After all,"_ as Eric had said to his father once, _"it is the 70s."_

...

Red was hiding out in the garage, fully intending to stay there until he was called inside for dinner. Kitty was a nervous wreck, and any time he tried to get her to calm down, she either began to cry, or she snapped at him. No, it was better just to stay here until he absolutely had to.

He knew she was worried about Eric, and truthfully, he was too. In fact, he wasn't able to spend more than a few moments without wondering what Eric was doing, where he was, and if he was okay.

More than any of that, Red questioned why the teen had run away at all. He wanted to blame himself, but he knew that his harsh parenting methods couldn't possibly be the only reason. Eric had said "this is just something I have to do," and the older man had immediately understood, remembering that he had said those exact words to his parents before he shipped off to Korea. Of course, he was sure that Eric wasn't joining the military, but the sentiment was the same. He probably needed to find his way, to evaluate his life and his goals; something like that. Yes, Red understood.

That didn't mean he wasn't terrified for his son.


	6. Night Moves

"That afternoon found Ritch and Aaron teaching Eric how not to get murdered while living in the city. It was around 4:30 when Joy entered the shop to see Valerie watching her husband and friend collectively pin the young Wisconsinite to the ground.

"You can't let your guard down," Ritch was saying. "You don't have to be paranoid, but if you zone out, you're a walking target."

"And if someone does threaten you, give them what they want. Otherwise, you'll just end up on the ground. Your life is more important than your watch or your wallet."

"Right…can I get up now?"

"They stood and Ritch extended a hand to help the teen up. Aaron continued their lesson.

"If you're heading somewhere you're not familiar with, and it isn't close, especially at night, just take a cab, man. No offense, but you look like easy pickings."

"I'm flattered."

Aaron noticed his girlfriend standing next to Valerie by the counter. "Hey babe," he grinned, going up to her and kissing her, smiling when she slipped her hands into the back pockets of his jeans. "How was work?"  
"Boring as always," Joy smiled, turning to Eric. "Learning some things?"

"Yeah, they were just showing me how to avoid a repeat of last night."

"Are you feeling better? Your face…"

"It looks a lot worse than it feels," he assured her.

"Good."

"So, turns out we're taking everyone out tonight," Aaron informed his girlfriend.

"Oh, that'd better mean you too, Eric," she said.

"I already invited him. Promised to show him what a real club looks like."

"Great, so we go change, meet back here at seven?" Valerie suggested.

"Sounds good," Aaron said, slipping his arm around Joy and turning to leave, though Joy stopped and regarded Eric with concern.

"You don't have much by way of clothes, do you?"

He didn't want to admit that he was down to his last clean shirt, but before Eric could come up with a sarcastic response to cover the truth, she gestured for him to follow them. "I bet we can find you something to wear."

Smiling at his girlfriend's kindness, Aaron clapped Eric on the shoulder. "You can borrow something of mine. There's no way we're taking you out wearing that getup."

"Gee, thanks…" Eric said, smiling in spite of himself. When they stepped out onto the sidewalk, he expected them to hail a cab, but instead the couple turned to the left and strolled down the street.

"Where do you guys live?"

"We've got a flat a few blocks down."

When the trio came to a relatively nice apartment building, Aaron pulled a set of keys from his pocket and let them in, and Eric gawked at the living space in front of him.  
This was the lifestyle that he'd imagined when he came to Chicago- a splendid mix of modern, bohemian, and urban decorations covered every inch of the space. It wasn't huge; there was a living room, two doors that must have led to a bathroom and a bedroom, and a small space raised slightly from the den area- the kitchen. A reina chair sat in the corner, and a guitar sat in a stand nearby, which made perfect sense, given the inhabitants of the apartment. Contrasting that, there was a large bookshelf full of history books and an impressive collection of classic fiction- seemingly odd choices for his new friends. A coffee table filled with professional looking notebooks and papers sat across from a modest television set. It was the perfect culmination of simple living and city living.

Aaron went off into the bedroom and Joy wandered to the kitchen area, warning Eric not to trip over the step when he moved to join her.

"So...you're a secretary?" he began awkwardly.

"Yeah, nothing too exciting, just filing papers, getting coffee…. stupid stuff. I'm just working my way up, you know?"

After a pause, and a glance at her semi-professional work clothes, Eric admitted, "I really wouldn't have pegged you for something so…"

"Boring? Mainstream?" she smiled.

"I wasn't going to say that."

"That's okay, that's what I would say. It pays the bills and I know I'll eventually be working somewhere better," noting the faint tinge of of red on his ears, she smirked. "You have a tendency to put your foot in your mouth, huh?"

"Well, it is my nature," he said in resignation.

"Hey, Forman!" Aaron called from the bedroom. "Come try this out."

Entering the small bedroom, Eric saw the slightly older man holding some dark jeans and a belt.

"If these ft, you can keep them. I never wore them, they're too short," he said, stepping out to give him some privacy.

Despite being too small for Aaron, they were the perfect fit for the young Forman, flaring slightly and falling over his shoes. Eric had a few pairs of jeans, but they'd always been light wash, straight legged, and usually only worn on weekends. You know, jeans that Red would approve of. These jeans were pants that Fez or Hyde or Kelso would wear.

"They fit?" Aaron asked, reentering the room.

"Yeah…are you sure you don't want them?"

"Consider it a donation towards your new Chicago life," Joy chimed in, following her boyfriend, and pulling a shirt and jacket from the closet. "He doesn't wear these either." When Eric donned the new garments, she smiled. "You look like Robert Redford."

Aaron snorted. "Don't go raising his hopes too high, Babe."

Eric smiled. "Guys…thanks."

The young couple smiled back. "Stop thanking us for doing nothing."

"Saving my life and helping me out isn't nothing."

"That's just being a decent human being," Joy said.

Eric nodded absently, secretly thinking about the fact that no one he'd ever met would ever be this "decent" to a perfect stranger- not even the friendliest people of Point Place.

"Alright, enough of this love-fest," Aaron said, looking at his watch. "We gotta change too."

"Right, sorry," Eric said, ducking out into the living room and looking around while he waited. He knew very little about guitars, but he could tell the one next to the reina chair was of very good quality. Moving over to the bookshelves, he noted the impressive and extensive collection of records; everyone from Cream to Zeppelin was present.

The bedroom door opened and Aaron emerged, dressed similarly to Eric, flicking his hair out of his face.  
"She'll be out in a minute. Or an hour," he grinned, "it could go either way."

"Whose guitar?"

"Mine. You play?"

"No, no. My mom made me take piano lessons as a kid, but that's the closest I ever came to being a musician."

"Never too late to learn," Aaron shrugged, before Joy emerged, her hair full of volume, her makeup re-vamped, and her clothes much more exciting and fit for a nightclub.

"Okay, it's 6:45, ready to go?"

After a short walk back to the record store, they found Ritch and Valerie locking up the establishment.

"So how away far is this place?" Eric asked.

"'Bout a mile south of here."

Looking around, he didn't see a car. "Are we taking a cab?"

"You kidding?" Ritch chuckled. "There's an energy crisis. We're walking."

The five young adults started heading in the direction of the club as the sun was going down. In no time at all they were standing out front of an enormous establishment, lit up in a hazy fluorescent splendor. Even though the club had opened only ten minutes before, a long line had formed out front. Eric could tell just from the crowd that this was indeed a "real" nightclub; the patrons were mostly over the age of 21, were better dressed and far better looking than the hoard of people that had been at the disco he'd tried the night before. And was that Kate Jackson passing through the front doors?

"Are we even gonna make it in?" the teen asked, eyeing the long line.

"Have faith," Valerie smiled, as Joy led the way to the front of the queue. The people waiting looked on indignantly, but also with curiosity, wondering if anyone in the little entourage was a celebrity.

"We know the bouncer," Ritch informed Eric. "And the owner."

"Seriously?"

"Hey buddy," Aaron greeted the bouncer. "What's going on?"

"Not much. Who's the new guy?"

"Eric Forman, meet Carl."

"Hi," Eric said nervously.

"Hey. What happened to your face?"

Shit. He'd forgotten about his black eye.

"He got in a fight saving a girl," Ritch assisted smoothly.

"Nice. Have a good time," Carl said as he moved the velvet rope out of their way.

"Thanks," Aaron said, as Eric looked to Ritch with an eyebrow raised.

"Well, it is true," he shrugged. "Didn't that guy punch you when you tried to stop him from hurting his girlfriend?"

"Yeah," Eric said in realization, not having thought of it that way.

"Didn't realize you were a badass, did you?" Joy teased.

Eric didn't answer, too busy looking around at the interior of the club. The first floor had booths and a bar, and a huge dance floor currently filled with a crowd of writhing bodies. A DJ booth was set on a raised platform, where the DJ could watch the crowd and control the music and lights all at once. A set of stairs led up to a sort of loft, where VIPs could party without being disturbed by the "riffraff" of normal patrons. Though no one here could possibly be considered normal; everyone looked like a millionaire, an heiress, or a movie-star. Eric felt very out of place.

"So…what do we do?"

"Let's start by dancing," Joy laughed, grabbing his hand and tugging him onto the dance floor. She started to move, and he looked on in terror; there was no way the goofy overdramatic dancing would work here. Aaron, Ritch and Valerie all came to his aid, showing him how a couple should dance at a club. After a minute or two of trying it out, Valerie and Ritch led him to the bar.

"Now just try it out with someone else," Valerie suggested.

"Who?"

Ritch casually turned over to the girl next to him. "Hi, would you like to dance with my friend here?"

The pretty young girl smiled. "Sure, why not?"

Eric tried not to panic as he walked with her back over to the dance floor. Channeling Travolta, he took a breath and started to dance, or the closest thing to it that he could manage. It seemed to work, as she smiled and followed suit.

There he was, actually dancing with a gorgeous girl in the most exclusive club in Chicago. Why hadn't he run away earlier?

This was far more fun than he'd had at the disco the night before.

"Hey, what happened to your eye?" the girl asked in the middle of a slow song. He almost didn't hear her question, as he was focusing on guiding her around the dance floor as carefully as possible.

"Oh, I…uh…I tried to help a girl…her boyfriend was being a jerk, and I stepped in and he punched me."

"Wow, that is so brave," she said in awe.

"Yeah, well," he shrugged, embarrassed.

Eventually they broke apart, and she left him with a wink.

"I had a great time," she said with a smile.

When she was gone, he turned back to his friends, who were sitting at a huge red booth, a round of drinks in hands.

"Look at you, an hour into it and you're making new friends," Joy smiled.

"Don't forget us when you're partying with Farrah," Ritch said.

Eric smiled and sat down, and Aaron slid him a beer. They sat and talked as the lights flashed across their faces. When a slow, gentle song came on, Aaron and Joy returned to the dance floor, wrapping their arms around each other. Joy nestled her face in his shoulder, and he rested his cheek on her head. Eric watched the moment and his heart panged, wishing Donna were there to dance with him.

"I'll get the next round," Ritch said, giving Valerie a kiss on the forehead before sliding out of the booth and heading to the bar.

This was the first time that Valerie and Eric were really alone together since being introduced, so Eric cleared his throat and struck up a conversation. They began to talk about their home towns, and Eric took the opportunity to ask if she was, in fact, Native American.

"Yeah, I grew up on a reservation with my family. I left to go to college...eventually I met Ritch… and the rest is history," she concluded, clearly leaving out a lot of time between those events.

"You know," Eric shouted over the music. "That's really cool."

"You should hear where Joy came from before settling here," Valerie smiled. "It's much more interesting than that."

Before he could ask what she meant, Joy, Aaron, and Ritch all returned. Aaron slipped a tablet out of his pocket and popped it into his mouth, then handed one to Joy. Noticing Eric watching them, Aaron held out one. "Wanna try?"

"What is it?" Eric asked, taking the little pill and inspecting it closely.

"Just gives you a little buzz," Aaron said. "Ever tried weed before? It's like that, but doesn't last as long."

"Careful," Ritch warned. "He might not be ready for that."

"No, I'm fine," Eric said, not bothering to explain that he was fairly experienced with marijuana, and that he should be fine with whatever this was. However, it didn't occur to him that the stuff Hyde supplied was weak, home grown stuff; the drugs he would encounter in Chicago were going to be far stronger.

He popped the pill into his mouth and waited for it to kick in. After a few minutes, it did.  
dColors swirled and pulsed around him; sounds seemed to pulse in his ears as well. He didn't know what this drug was, but it was nice. It definitely wasn't heroin, cocaine, or LSD…perhaps it was something over the counter?  
He felt too good to care.

He found another pretty girl at the bar and somehow found himself on the dance floor with her. The lights flashed and he found himself laughing, having the time of his life.

The high died down quickly, but he felt fine. He was sort of tired though, and decided not to have another.

"How'd you like that?" Aaron asked once it was over.

"Not bad," was all Eric could say, as he was still shaking the pleasant, fuzzy feeling from the edges of his brain.

Ritch chuckled, but scooted his beer away from Eric. "I think that's enough for now," he smiled. "You're too small for all of that at once."

"Hey, you're not exactly far from wiry yourself," Eric said defensively.

"Yeah, but I am bigger than you, and a little more used to it," Ritch smiled, with a hint of a paternal tone in his voice.

"Let's dance a little more," Joy said, grabbing Eric's hand and leading him to the dance floor once again.

...

The walk back to the record store cleared everyone's heads completely, and allowed them to talk with more concentration.

"So how do you guys know the owner of that place?" Eric asked as they crossed the street. The warmth of the summer persisted into the night, as did the lively activity that never seemed to leave the streets.

"He and Aaron were in a band a few years back," Joy said.

"And we supply the records they use at the club," Valerie said.

"Not to mention Joy knows everyone on the music scene," Aaron added, looking at his girlfriend with pride.

"Why's that?"

Joy smiled and ducked her head slightly in embarrassment. "I...traveled with a couple bands over the past few years."

"Woah, wait," Eric said, realizing exactly what she meant. "You were a groupie?"

So that's what Valerie had meant when she hinted at "where Joy came from!" Honestly, that made more sense to him than Joy being a secretary.

"We don't usually use the word groupie," she said. "We prefer Muses, or Music Supporters."

"Sorry, it's just…that's so cool! Who did you travel with?"

"Just about everyone," she said.

"Alice Cooper?"

"Yes, actually."

"Aerosmith?"

"No, but I met Steven Tyler at a party."

"Wait…Zeppelin?"

"…Yeah," she grinned, and Eric had to force himself not to freak out. However, he couldn't keep from asking her endless questions about what John Bonham was like, or if Stevie Nicks was as talented in real life as she was on record, or if Mick Jagger was nice…the list went on and on. Even if she had never been a groupie for a particular band, the odds were good that she had met them, or was friends with someone who knew them.

"So, don't take this the wrong way, but why-"

"Why retire from living on the road and settling here to be a secretary?" she grinned. "I get that a lot. I met Aaron. Plain and simple."

"She was on the road with us, and when we split up, I came back to Chicago. She came with me," Aaron said, giving his girlfriend a kiss on her forehead.

Eric watched them and wondered at how a former musician and a former groupie could be so…domestic. So in love.

By this time, they'd reached the record store and Valerie unlocked the door. As it turned out, Ritch and his wife lived right above the shop, in a comfortable flat much larger than Aaron and Joy's apartment. But then, they were business owners, and a few years older, after all.

"I'm starved," Ritch said. "Let's get something to eat."

It was then that Eric realized he hadn't eaten since that morning. No wonder the drugs and the beer had worked so strongly.

"Burgers?" Aaron offered. "I'll get them. Be back in a few."

As he left, Valerie turned and smiled at Eric. "Well, how did it feel to go to a real nightclub?"

"I definitely could tell the difference between last night and tonight," he grinned.

"And no one got injured," Ritch smiled, clapping Eric on the shoulder and producing a handful of cokes from the back room of the store.

After a few minutes of goofing off and hanging around, Aaron returned with burgers and fries for all.  
Valerie put a record on and she and Ritch leaned against each other on the counter, enjoying their dinner. Joy and Aaron were doing the same against a rack of albums. Eric watched, dying for Donna to be there with him. God, he just could not get her out of his mind, could he?. Despite that, he didn't feel lost or unwelcome amongst the small group around him. In fact, he felt incredibly accepted as the five of them talked and laughed. Yet, all of their goofing off didn't seem as childish as vandalizing a water tower or dining and dashing. They were only a few years older than him, but they were so worldly and smart.

In fact, just being around them made Eric feel smarter and more mature. And why not? He'd done more living in one night than he had in a lifetime. Dancing with a pretty girl (actually dancing), drinking, doing drugs; none of these were really all that mature, but he'd done them of his own accord. He was his own person... Eric could already feel the difference between the version of himself that had woken up in the morning, and the version of himself that was sitting around with his friends talking about nothing. Granted, they both had black eyes, but that earlier version of himself was alone, and unaware of how to exist on his own at all. Morning Eric would have gotten himself stabbed in an alley, Evening Eric knew how to at least dodge a punch. And most importantly, he now had friends. Real friends that took him in and cared for him, showed him the ropes, saved his life. And because of that, he didn't mind when Joy produced a Polaroid camera, seemingly out of nowhere, and started taking snapshots to immortalize the pleasant moment.

Have you ever stopped in a moment, and realized that you could feel yourself changing for the better? For the first time, but not the last of the summer, Eric did feel such a thing.

Colors flashed and sounds pulsed in his ears, but this time it was joy, not adrenaline or drugs causing the sensation.


	7. Changes

**A/N: Hey guys, this is a short chapter, I know. In my mind, it sort of acts as bridge chapter- this is the end of Part 1, in my mind. It is important, though- definitely not a filler.**

 **Also, before you read, you should know that there is a pretty significant description of Eric's physical appearance in this chapter. If you don't know who Mike Nesmith is, I suggest googling "Mike Nesmith, young" and looking at images of him. (The "young" part is definitely important.)**

 **It will make sense once you read. Thanks as always for your reviews and support!**

 _( One month later)_

It had been several weeks since Eric had first arrived in Chicago, and a month since he had met his new band of friends. In just that short time, he had formed real bonds with each of them. Their help and friendship had introduced him to so many experiences and a whole plethora of knowledge about life in the city. Their guidance was at times life saving, and Eric was much more street wise because of it. And of course, he appreciated them for their friendship and company, the same way he loved his friends back in Wisconsin. The four became very fond of him, too. Outside of the group, Eric had also been introduced to many interesting people, so he did have a network of acquaintances and friends as well.

After about a week of hanging out with his new group, Eric had realized that if he was going to continue to sleep in a hotel, or eat, he was going to need a job. Hoping that his friends would be able to help him, the teen had asked for their advice. Valerie and Ritch had shared a glance and immediately invited him to work at the record store.

 _"I usually say that you should never work where you hang out,"_ Ritch had said. _"But we'd be happy to have you here."_

He'd accepted on the spot, and worked at selling records, helping customers, and delivering new vinyls to the clubs that Ritch and Valerie had deals with.

Usually at this time of day he would be at work, hanging out with friends, or getting dinner. But today was different; the evening was setting in as the young Forman strolled along Lake Michigan. It had been hot all day, but a strong breeze was now making the temperature more tolerable. Eric was alone, winding down and enjoying the leisure time. Only a handful of couples were out with him, taking advantage of the pleasant day. He was spending the time contemplating all that had happened to him in the short time he'd lived in Chicago...

As a young kid, Eric had been a big fan of 'the Monkees' television show. They all were, even Hyde, as much as he'd deny it. They were the Beatles for the kids who were too young to really "get" Sgt. Pepper. Besides the fun and wacky plot-lines, the fictional-band-turned-real was a big deal for Eric and his friends. The Monkees were always being disrespected, and treated as young "weirdos" by the adults they encountered. And when Red would say those weirdos were lazy for growing out their hair to absurd lengths, and for not getting real jobs, the show made Eric question Red's ideas. So what if the characters' hair was long? They were talented musicians, and every week they got into some awesome adventure. They were good people, regardless of hair length. Looking back, Eric didn't know if he would have thought to let his hair take on his standard bowl cut without that small step in his life.

Of all the characters on the show, Mike had always been Eric's favorite. It was no surprise then, that in this new stage of his life, Eric would grow out his hair even longer, and it vaguely began to look like Mike's had on TV.

Red and Kitty would die if they saw it. Without it being cut or monitored on a regular basis by the critical standards of Red, it had thickened and grown. Eric did nothing but comb it so that the part was a bit more defined- it did the rest by itself. The hair had grown far past his ears, but it moved like a wave over his forehead so that it never got as long as Aaron's or Ritch's. It almost covered his left eyebrow, but Eric hardly noticed it, and was careful to trim it before it ever got any lengthier than that. The teen had tried to grow a beard or even some sideburns to complete the look, but he had always been "hairless," as his mother liked to say, and growing facial hair turned out to be a bust. Even with a clean-shaven face, the hair made him look older and more mature.

But it wasn't just the hair. He'd bought new clothes too- more jeans, less slacks, and shirts that didn't drown him in fabric. He even saved up for a new suede jacket-trimmed with wool, like the one he'd left in Point Place, but of better quality.

Physically, he was still tall and thin, and otherwise unchanged. But as a person, he had grown into an independent young adult. He noticed it in himself quite often these days.

And he was loving it.

His new job was not only a step up from "Price-Mart Stockboy" but it was a more social occupation. He was meeting and dealing with people from all walks of life, which was exciting, even if not every customer was entirely pleasant. In fact, the less pleasant customers made him better at handling himself in tight spots and difficult social situations. Eric's general awkwardness was slowly disappearing, though his sarcasm and "twitchiness" remained a fundamental part of his personality- in fact, these traits endeared him to others. He was the same witty Eric, he just did a better job of not putting his foot in his mouth.

He also carried himself with a bit more self-assurance, which added to that older, more mature appearance he was sporting these days. His view of the world was changing along with his personality. This meant that his view on people was changing too. Particularly, where women were involved.

Eric truly hadn't known many women in his life. There were a few relatives, teachers, and acquaintances he knew from town, and the occasional (rare) female classmate that actually showed any interest in him. Those he did know were few and far between. There was his grandmother, who had been unpleasant right up to her death; the fact that she died under his watch had traumatized him and further made it difficult to think about her. (Eric still tried not to think about that whole experience.) There was his sister, Laurie, although she too was unpleasant, and often absent, off partaking in dangerous and reckless behavior. These relatives, though strong in personality, always made life uncomfortable or even at times unbearable for Eric, so he'd never seen them as people to respect or model himself after, despite the love he felt, deep (deep) down for them.

There was Jackie, who was so vain and mean that Eric didn't like her as a person, regardless of gender. She and Eric were friends, truly, but only showed it on the rarest of occasions. Even though Jackie did have her moments of brief wisdom or generosity, she often followed that immediately with a rude remark or a fight with Kelso. So when Eric regarded her as a pain, it was a matter of personality, not of sexism.

Of course, his mother was the most prominent and probably the most positive female figure in his life. She could do everything, and even though she was often balancing many tasks at once, she was never too busy to be there for him when he needed her. Kitty knew so much, and was so kind….Eric secretly viewed her as the best person he knew.

The only other truly positive female figure in his world had been Donna. He had adored everything about her. She was one of the smartest people he knew (only Kitty and Red could possibly surpass her in his opinion) and definitely the smartest person their age. She had dreams bigger than Point Place, which at one time was hurtful to him, but now Eric understood it. Everything about Donna had at one time captivated him, including her passion for her own rights, though that passion had sparked a few tiffs between them over the course of their relationship.

Looking back, he had to admit that he'd had his sexist moments. They always occurred accidentally, a creation of his own awkwardness. Giving Donna panties as a joke, expecting her to settle down once they were married to raise their children; these were some of the things she'd taken issue with. In Eric's defense, that was what all of the best women he knew ended up doing. His mother, his grandmothers, they had all settled down and gotten married, raising two kids each. That was what women in Point Place did.

But once he'd spent enough time in Chicago, he learned that settling down was not what most young women were doing nowadays. Even if they didn't have plans to go to college or start a career, like Donna, the women Eric encountered were both energetic and kind, both free-spirited and professional. They partied hard, they worked, they dated frequently and they dressed the way they wanted to. But that didn't mean they compromised their own morals or integrity. The women he met were like a combination of Laurie and Kitty: flirty, feminine, kind and intelligent. Not to mention successful. He now saw why Donna might want that sort of life.

It was interesting spending time with Joy and Valerie. They were the first close female friends he had, that weren't related to him, that he didn't hate, or that he wasn't in love with. Not only that, but one was married, and one had been a groupie!

 _Only in Chicago._

Or rather, only outside of Point Place.

The more time Eric spent away from his parents, the more he appreciated them. Now that he was supporting himself he was slightly more aware of the financial struggle they must have faced when Red lost his job at the plant. Their parents tried to keep up the pretenses that they were fine, but Eric, and even Laurie, could see that things weren't all that great. They'd almost lost the house. It was truly a miracle that one, (or both) Forman parents didn't split, like Hyde's parents had done.

Or like Donna's mother had done.

It always came back to her. Even after all this time, weeks after they last saw each other, and over a year since they'd broken up….and there was something preventing him from letting go.

Love had something to do with it, yes, but there had been no real closure. Neither of them had ever really moved on- they had each tried seeing different people, but it never clicked with anyone, since they'd never moved on from each other.

It was a cycle of misery that he fully intended to break.

Eric had come to Chicago for a multitude of reasons, some of which he'd found along the way. He came to learn, to live, and to change.

The really cool thing about it was that he'd come to learn about the world, which he did, but he learned even more about himself.

He found out what real responsibility was. He had learned that he wasn't that bad a dancer, when he put his mind to it. He realized that he did in fact have that "Forman Rage" inside him somewhere- that you could push him around to no end, but the moment you moved in on a loved one, he'd let you have it. Apparently, he now enjoyed drives and walks by himself, because he liked the peace and quiet. He found that while he'd never been the best leader, people listened to him. Joy had even said something about him being a good teacher...

Eric was more aware of the world. He was more aware of others, and of himself. That alone would make him unrecognizable to anyone who had known him before.

…..

After a month of such heavy self-actualization, Eric still wasn't ready to go home. He liked it too much here in Chicago. And he felt no pressure to leave any time soon- it was the end of June, school didn't start for quite a while.

Between working and hanging out with his friends, he'd been trying all sorts of new things. Valerie knew all the best restaurants, and made him try some pretty exotic foods. Hanging out in a record store 24/7 exposed him to some bands that he had never heard of, or that he'd never fully appreciated until then. He'd been to several more discos and nightclubs, with and without his friends, and had even seen a few sporting events, despite his usual indifference to athletics. Furthermore, he'd consumed enough alcohol to the point where it was just another beverage, another part of life. It had once been taboo, something that required a specific amount of sneaking and lying. Here, he never once got carded.

He was definitely having an adventure.

The sun was going down and the tides were rising. Eric turned to let the breeze blow in his face, his hair blowing back and exposing his forehead. A deep breath brought in that nice blend of summer, lake, and city that was quickly becoming home to him.

And there was still much more to do.


	8. Turning Point

**Hello! As always, lots of thanks and love to my reviewers. Special shoutout to Marla's Lost for the nice messages. (PS- Eric will eventually go back to Point Place, but some things have to happen first! Also, that drug he tried in chapter 6 is not LSD- that will be addressed too! All those little details will come back later, don't you worry my wonderful readers.) Enjoy!**

It had been a month since Eric had left town, a month since he'd called to say that he was alive. The Forman house was in a sort of limbo without Eric there- they didn't mourn, because there was he wasn't dead (as far as they knew; Kitty couldn't stop thinking about the fact that she might never see her son again.) However, they couldn't pretend to be happy either. Kitty was rarely ever a step away from bursting into tears, and Red did his usual routine of masking his hurt with his temper. (As he had said once, his stages of grief were Anger, and Drinking; that's just what he did.) But, life had to go on. Kitty went back to work, though it took a lot of convincing on Red's part to get her to cut down on her stress-cooking. That turned out to be a bad idea, since Kitty now spent all of her free time in bed. Her small bout of sadness when Eric and Donna had been caught in their car without clothes was nothing compared to this. Red, though originally understanding of Eric's actions, was upset that the teen hadn't called back at all, just to let them know he was okay. Still, his anger at Eric was nothing in comparison to his worry. A feeling of helplessness settled over the household by the second week. How do you find your son, in 1977, if he doesn't want to be found? How do you stay angry at someone who may be dead? What do you do in the meantime?

The eldest Forman returned to work at Price-Mart, though the process of hiring a new kid to replace Eric as stock-boy had been a painful one, even if he'd never admit it to another living soul. However, perhaps more difficult was explaining to the police that Eric had called to say he was alive. Red didn't like to use the word "runaway" to describe his son, but that was essentially what had happened. Since Eric was a minor, the police were still looking for him in Wisconsin, though the fact that he was evidently out of Point Place of his own accord made his case drift to the lowest priority for state troopers. The sheriff, as a favor to Red, placed calls to just about every major city in Wisconsin and Illinois, and local officers from each town promised to keep an eye out.

After the whole debacle with the police at the Forman house, the people of Point Place began to talk. There were some rumors floating around that Eric was dead, or that he had gone to Hollywood to be in the movies (Kelso was responsible for that one). Still, the majority of the talk was exchanged behind closed doors, mostly out of sympathy and/or respect for Red and Kitty. After a month without word, most people had practically forgotten about the whole thing.

Since it was summer, the teens of Point Place did their usual thing- hang out in the basement, go to the Hub, cruise in their cars, etc. But the antics were cut down significantly without Eric there: partially due to the fact that Eric was usually the one that got them out of trouble, and mostly because it wasn't the same without him.

Donna still hung out with her friends, but she spent an inordinate time in her room, thinking about Eric: wondering what he was doing and if he was okay. She hadn't tried dating anyone else since the whole incident with Casey, as it had dealt a huge blow to her confidence. Funnily enough, it was still Hyde taking Eric's absence the hardest.

Hyde relied heavily on the tough-guy act in times of trouble. However, he constantly listened out for the phone, hoping that Eric would call again. Steven constantly kicked himself for not getting a number from Forman the last time he'd called, or at least an address. Instead, he had no way of knowing if his friend was alright, or even if he was still in Chicago. (Hyde had kept that part a secret, knowing full-well that if he told his friends or the Formans, they would launch a crusade to go get Eric back from Chicago, which is the opposite of what Eric wanted.)

Having lost their actual son for the time being, Red and Kitty kept track of their surrogate son with hawk eyes. Steven knew they were afraid he'd run away too (which made more sense to everyone than the idea of Eric leaving home) and because of this fear, they rarely let him out of their sight. It annoyed him, but he played along for the most part. Whenever he would go out, Kitty would demand to know where he was going, who with, and when he'd be back. And if he was more than a few minutes late, Red would come after him in the Vista Cruiser.

It was a boring evening in late June when the phone rang in the Forman house. Steven, Kitty, and Red were sitting around watching "MASH," one of the few shows that the entire household could agree on. Kitty got up to answer it, as she usually did, deciding to answer on the kitchen phone so as not to disrupt the show.

"Hello?"

 **"…Mom?"** Eric said carefully, willing her not to freak out. Of course, she freaked out anyway.

"Eric!" she shouted, quickly summoning Red and Hyde from the den.

 **"Hey Mom,"** he said, a smile in his voice. **"How….how are you doing?** "

"How am I doing?!" she said, her voice reaching a dangerous pitch. "I'm worried sick, that's how I'm doing!"

Red tried to reach out to calm her, but one frightening look from his wife nixed the idea.

 **"I know, and I'm sorry, I should have called sooner. And before you ask, I'm alright. Everything's okay."**

"No it is not," Kitty said vehemently. "Where are you? Why won't you come home?"

How could he explain that he was too happy to come home? She'd be crushed. And if he revealed his whereabouts, he knew his parents would immediately come after him. Suddenly regretting the decision to call them, Eric paused.

 **"I'll come home some time in the next few weeks,"** Eric said lamely, knowing that wouldn't be enough. Now she would wait up for him every day for weeks, and he really didn't know when he would actually return to Point Place.

"Eric-"

" **Mom, I really am ok. I kind of like what I'm doing and where I am right now. I can't tell you exactly where I am, because I know you'll just get upset, but I promise I'm safe. I'm remembering to eat and everything."**

"Who's doing your laundry?" Kitty asked, impulsively thinking about all of his needs. There was a silence on the line, Eric said simply, **"I am,"** as if she should have known that. Eric smiled into his empty hotel room, imagining his mother's surprise at the idea of him taking care of himself.

"I miss you, Eric," Kitty said, tears quietly spilling over. Red pulled her into a hug while she spoke.

" **I miss you too,"** Eric said. Thinking for a moment, he offered. **"Would it help if I called once a week?"**

"It would help if you came home," she sniffed, but then added. "Twice a week."

 **"Deal….and Mom, I'm sorry. I know you're angry-"**

"I'm beyond angry, Eric," she said. "But I love you and I want you to come home."

" **I will. Can I talk to Hyde?"**

"Here, talk to your father first," she said, handing the phone off to Red before truly bursting into tears and retreating to her room.

Eric stiffened, waiting for the onslaught of shouting that Red would surely dish out. His father did not disappoint. You see, Red had been so understanding with Eric originally, because he had assumed this little vacation would last a weekend, possibly a week. Red had done that once as a kid, so he could sympathize. In his mind, this was a step in the right direction for Eric. But after a month of worrying over his son, Red predictably saw Eric's decision as a dumbass move. And even though he would give anything to see his son, in person and in one piece, in this moment the concern and fear dissipated, leaving only anger.

He unleashed it upon Eric, who characteristically listened in silence.

After five minutes of shouting, seemingly without taking a breath, Red stopped with the question, "What do you have to say for yourself?"

Eric sat silently, completely unsure of what to say to his father that wouldn't just earn him five more minutes of yelling.

 **"I'm…sorry?"** he asked, more than said.

Wrong move. He was rewarded with more hollering, which ended with the muttering of "dumbass," before Red handed the phone off to Hyde, who had watched the exchange wordlessly.

 **"Hey Hyde,"** Eric said, almost breathless. After everything, Red still scared the heck out of him.

"Forman, what's up man?" When Red was out of earshot, he asked, "How's Chicago?"

 **"It's….it's pretty amazing, Hyde."**

"Sorta wish I was there," Hyde admitted.

 **"Yeah, well, there have been some downsides,"** Eric said, eyeing the place where he had been cut on the arm by that mugger, before he had met his new friends. The cut had healed messily, leaving a thin scar up his arm. It looked tough enough, but he hated looking at it.

Since Eric didn't elaborate, Hyde decided not to question it.

"So, have you met any hot chicks?"

Eric laughed. **"Lots,"** he said, thinking about all of the girls he'd met at parties and clubs over the past month. But that thought quickly sobered. **"Speaking of which…how's Donna?"**

Hyde honestly didn't know how to answer. He settled with "Donna's good," which was the truth. She was good, it was true, but this way Eric didn't have to know how Donna hardly came to the basement anymore.

 **"Good,"** Forman said faintly. **"Man, you should see my hair. Red is gonna kill me when he gets a look at it."**

Hyde grinned. "Chicago has changed you, man," he said jokingly.

 **"What can I say…all that disco…"**

Hyde gagged, and Eric laughed again, then added. " **I really freaked out my mom and dad, huh?"**

"Freaked out? Dude, your mom won't stop crying. Red has me on a curfew."

 **"Sorry,"** Eric winced, not having realized just how upset his parents would be. He knew they were angry, but he didn't think about the fact that he had hurt them. Secretly, it made him feel good to know that even Red was worried about him. **"So how's everyone else?"**

They talked for a few more minutes, and Eric gave Hyde his hotel's phone number with his room's extension, under the promise that Steven wouldn't give it to anyone, not even Red and Kitty. When they hung up, almost thirty minutes after Kitty had answered, Hyde let out a big breath, thinking as he retreated to the basement that Eric had sounded different somehow.

...

Making that call to Point Place forced Eric to acknowledge emotions and thoughts that he had held at bay for over a month. The vague guilt over leaving his friends and family returned, but only just. The real sucker-punch came from, as always, thoughts of Donna. Over the past few weeks the Wisconsin native had distracted himself with work and friends and self discovery. This was good, of course, but his habit of suppressing negative emotions was once again coming back to bite him on the ass.

In the meantime, he had grown very close with Ritch and Aaron, the latter spent a huge amount of time at the record store, and slow days were spent goofing off and listening to new albums. It had been revealed to Eric that when he wasn't working on music, Aaron was a substitute English teacher at a local high school. This had blown the teen away even more so than finding out that Joy had been a groupie. Aaron had laughed, shrugged his shoulders, and simply explained that it paid the bills, and he had summers off. It was a crazy idea, especially when he thought about how young Aaron was- only a few years older than actual high schoolers. However, it wasn't like being a substitute required a college degree, and it did explain all of the classic novels in Aaron and Joy's apartment. Also, it did give Aaron tons of time to work on his music- he was currently trying to pull together a new band to play the local scene. But despite his carefree, reckless attitude and his rock-star lifestyle, Aaron was a great friend for Eric; he was smart and widened but only a little older, like a big brother. This made Ritch the even-older brother; it was no secret that he and Valerie were the parents of the group much in the same way that Eric and Donna had been the "mom" and "dad" of their group.

It was no surprise, then, that he would go to Aaron, Ritch, and Valerie for advice. It was the day after he had called home, and the four of them were working in the store when Eric brought it up. He still couldn't get Donna out of his mind, and he figured that since they were all very experienced with adult relationships, that they would be able to help him.

"Hey guys," he began, his voice a little more nervous than he would have liked. It made Ritch stop what he was doing, and Aaron's eyebrows knitted in concern.

"What's wrong?" Valerie asked.

"I just wanted your advice about Donna."

Eric's Chicago friends knew the redhead more as an entity than as a person; he rarely spoke about her, though they knew that he was in love with her. They had seen a picture from Eric's wallet, and had asked about Donna, but they still had a hard time in getting a sense of who she was. This was probably because Eric had described her only in the most idealistic way.

Ritch had to go answer the phone, and Valerie gave Aaron a meaningful look. Catching her eye, he nodded ever so slightly, then went to help an older customer who looked rather lost amongst the KISS albums. This left Eric alone with Valerie, who knew that no matter how close the three guys were, Eric would feel less nervous about sharing his feelings with her, one-on-one.

"Okay, Eric," she began, leaning up against the counter. He followed suit. "So you're still having trouble getting over this girl."

He nodded.

"Val, you must have broken up with guys before you met Ritch, right? How do you deal with something like that? I broke up with Donna over a year ago, and it still hurts."

"Because you genuinely love her," Valerie cut in gently.

"So was I wrong to turn her down?" he asked, not sure if he wanted the answer to be no, or yes.

But she just shrugged. "I don't know Donna, I don't know how you two are together. But just because you really love someone doesn't mean you two are compatible. That's when it hurts the most."

"No kidding," he agreed.

"But if it doesn't work out, then it wasn't meant to be," Valerie concluded.

"That's sort of like what Donna said. But I said that it works out when you say it will, and then you stay together forever."

Valerie paused, trying to figure out exactly how to explain what she was thinking.

"Well, you're both right," she conceded after a minute. "All relationships take work. Even soulmates have to make an effort to be together. But you can't fix something that is fundamentally broken…. a bad relationship is like a car without an engine. It looks nice, but the thing is empty inside, and it doesn't go anywhere."

After a long bout of silence, Eric sighed and hung his head. "You're right, I know you are, it's just….I feel like all that time with her was wasted if I'm just gonna hurt over it now, you know?"

Valerie shook her head. "Don't think like that. It's good that you were with Donna. That time made you who you are now. And now you know what it's like to be in a relationship." She studied him closely. "I can tell you're not the kind of guy who likes short flings."

When he shook his head, she nodded. "I can relate," she smiled fondly at her husband, who had hung up the phone and was now sorting inventory. "…Think of it this way, Eric. We love lots of people in one lifetime. And each serious boyfriend or girlfriend…that's special, it's important, even when it's over. Because it shows you who you are with someone, and outside of them. Kinda like training for the Big One. Whoever you choose to spend the rest of your life with."

He was quiet as she finished speaking, and at that moment, Joy walked in, fresh off of work. She started to head over to Valerie and Eric at the counter, but seeing that they were clearly in the middle of something important, she looked around and found her boyfriend. Eric and Valerie watched her slide up next to him and immediately Aaron put his arm around her, even before looking down at her and smiling. As they began to educate the couple on the finer points of Creedence Clearwater Revival's discography, Eric couldn't help but notice how natural they were together. They were constantly in each other's worlds, never as a second thought; not needing any thought at all. Ritch and Val were the same way.

That's not to say they didn't have to work at staying together. They had their vices, but those vices complimented each other.

Eric watched and realized that no matter how causal or easy going he and Donna were together, it was never to that extent. He hadn't noticed the difference before, but looking back on it, he couldn't possibly understand how he'd ever missed it in the first place. He could see the difference in Valerie and Ritch- they didn't keep score in their relationship, and every mistake didn't become a fight. Eric could see the difference even in his parents…Red and Kitty could sit together in silence for ages, just happy to be together. He and Donna had never done anything like that. It might have been an age thing, a matter of maturity, but suddenly Eric found himself outgrowing it- wanting more.

And just like that, that knot of leftover feelings for Donna…it loosened ever so slightly.

"It's really up to you," Valerie said, watching the change come over his features. "You've been holding yourself back from moving on."

"You're saying this is my fault?" he asked. She smiled.

"Not exactly," she said. "But I've known you for a month now and I've never seen you do anything with a girl other than dancing with a stranger at a party or club. You've met some of our friends, and nice girls come in here all the time. Why not try actually talking to one? I'd say that you should just do it, like ripping off a bandaid, but it has been a year, after all."

He smiled and she patted his hand, moving to join her husband.


	9. Jailhouse Rock

**Here's another chapter- enjoy! (Of course, I do not condone reckless behavior or drug use. I wrote in the summary that this story would be addressing such topics- it would be naive of me to write a story set in Chicago in the 1970s without exploring sex, drugs, etc. We're gonna get just a little dangerous here for the next few chapters. Or at least, Eric is. Buckle up!)**

It was only a few days later that the young Wisconsin teen found himself strolling down the street accompanied by Aaron and Ritch. It was Saturday evening, the store was closed for the night, and the trio were looking for something to do. None of them felt like going to a bar, party, or club (of the three, Aaron was the only one who was ever fully comfortable in such a loud environment, and even he wasn't in the mood for a spree.) Joy and Valerie had ushered them out for the evening, wanting to have a "girl's night-in" watching movies and hanging out. In fact, the three guys hadn't all been in one place at the same time in a week. On days when Eric was working, Aaron was out either playing gigs or practicing with the band he'd finally managed to put together. When Aaron was at the shop, Eric was usually off of work. And Ritch had contracted a cold earlier in the week, and had been restricted to bedrest by Valerie, who insisted on running the store while he got better. Even when his symptoms were completely diminished, Valerie wasn't satisfied for another day and a half, and despite the fact that he was exactly a foot taller than his petite wife, Ritch followed her instructions. Despite them being completely different in personality, Eric couldn't help but notice how their relationship so closely mirrored his parents' marriage.

So, it wasn't until Saturday that the three guys found the time to hang out all together. They crossed the street, walking by several crowded bars on the way. A young African-American woman passed in a sparkling disco suit so bright that Eric watched her in interest as she went.

"What about Rennan's?" Ritch offered, looking over Eric's head to watch for oncoming cars. The bar in question was much smaller, less known and more bearable on a Saturday night.

"It's closed this whole month. The owner's wife just had a kid," Aaron smiled, looking up the five inches his friend had on him. "You need to get out of the shop more."

After several rounds of suggestions and nothing piquing their interest, the three just decided to head to Aaron and Joy's for TV and soda. Eric smiled thinking that if he hadn't left Point Place, he would be doing the exact same thing in his own basement. For some reason, it seemed more appealing to do it where he could look out the window and see skyscrapers.

They were only a block away from the building when they turned the corner to see two guys breaking into a car. One of the thugs had a crowbar, and was fixing to smash one of the rear windows.

"Hey!" Aaron shouted, making one of the thieves turn. The other didn't hear, and swung the crowbar through the glass, which shattered all over the sidewalk. He looked up when his partner started running, and seeing that they were compromised, followed at a sprint.

The three guys didn't follow, knowing that they'd never catch the fleeing robbers, but instead went to inspect the car. Luckily, only the back window suffered any damage, and Aaron picked up the crowbar.

"What a stupid way to break in to a car," he remarked, as Eric looked around for a potential owner.

"It must belong to someone in this building," he said, looking at the complex in front of them.

"Let's call the cops," Ritch suggested, just as a police car pulled up next to them, lights flashing. Two men got out.

"Oh, well there you go," Aaron said. "Hello, Officer, we were just about to call you."

"Right," the cop remarked sarcastically. In one movement he knocked the crowbar from Aaron's hand and had him pinned up against the assaulted car.

"Hey!"

"Woah, hey," Ritch said, striding forward in an attempt to defuse the situation, but the second cop took it for aggression and quickly turned on the two un-cuffed men.

"Stay right where you are, both of you," he barked. Ritch and Eric put their hands up, as Aaron tried to explain to the cop patting him down that the situation was a big misunderstanding. It was no surprise that the police officers didn't believe them, having found one of them holding the weapon while the other two were looking around (possibly for any approaching witnesses).

Aaron was loaded into the back of the police cruiser first, and Ritch next. The police officers were anything but gentle in their process of cuffing Eric and shoving him into the back of the car. The teen's eyes were wider than dinner plates the whole time. He'd been arrested before, also for a car related misunderstanding, but the Point Place cop hadn't cuffed them! The three made a ridiculous sight in the back of the cruiser, with Eric staring straight ahead in fear, while Ritch, whose legs were far too long for the space, tried not to squish Aaron, who wasn't exactly comfortable either. He was exactly one inch taller than Eric, and the back of the police car wasn't meant for three men, all 5'11 or taller.

"Joy's gonna kill me," Aaron groaned.

"And Valerie won't kill me?" Ritch said, too exasperated at the situation to hold any malice in his voice.

Eric didn't have a girlfriend or wife to kill him, but he wondered what the officers would do if they found out he was a seventeen-year-old runaway from Wisconsin. Would they find out? He couldn't be sure. His driver's license was, in fact, a Wisconsin one, so he couldn't claim to be from Chicago. Maybe he could lie and say he was visiting family? That Ritch and Aaron were his cousins? That seemed plausible enough, but could lie to the cops?

By a miracle of heaven, he didn't have to. They were booked and forced to take mug shots, but just like in Point Place, no one called his parents (not that he would have given them the right number anyway.) However, because no one was called, the three "partners in crime" were deposited in a small room of cells in the back of the precinct.

"This sure beats sitting at home, right guys?" Aaron asked, trying to lighten the mood.

Ritch ignored him and spoke to the officer who had taken them to their cell. "Excuse me, could I make that phone call now?"

The uniformed man nodded and led him out to the phone, leaving the remaining two to sit and wait. Soon enough, Ritch was back, sitting on the cell bench with a sigh.

"She almost didn't answer the phone," he said of his wife. "They're on their way now."

"Are they mad?" Eric asked.

"I don't know. They seemed worried, but I told them we were all fine, so who knows what they'll be like when they get here…"

As he spoke, Eric regarded the wall of the cell and noted, with interest, the various carvings and scratches left there by past occupants. The majority of the graffiti had been done in recent years, and often consisted of nothing more than a name and a date- presumably the night that guest had stayed in the cubicle. However, it was the older tags that caught the young man's eye. They were faded with time, but these signatures often came with a long slogan, or a sarcastic description of the offender's crime.

 _"Disturbing the peace by trying to promote peace"_

 _"Up Against the Wall, Mother******!"_

 _"For Dr. King"_

Eric studied the dates listed with each slogan and name, and found that they all fell between the years 1967 and 1972. Some were obviously from the Race Riots of 1968, others from the Days of Rage in 1969, almost a decade earlier. (Others either belonged to people arrested for individual acts or other, less notorious demonstrations.) Eric had forgotten about the violence that had gripped the city in the recent past. He was lucky to have grown up on the tail-end of this conflict, but it didn't mean he wasn't unaffected by it in the slightest; he remembered his parents' trepidation about how far the violence would spread. He recalled Kitty's worry one night, that perhaps the rioting would happen in Point Place- it had happened in Detroit and Chicago, why not their city? Red had calmed her by assuring her that such a thing was impossible- Point Place was much too small, too content a town for rioting to happen. Still, the footage of smashed cars, fires, and screaming young protesters did not provide the same comfort.

It was weird that he should end up in the same cell as these activists and anarchists; well, it wasn't weird, there were only five holding cells in the station, but it certainly was an eerie juxtaposition. His crime was only a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, but he was given the same exact cell as people who had set fires, looted buildings, and attacked cops….and the crazy thing was, those people had been his age at the time.

"This your first time in jail, Forman?" Aaron asked good-naturedly, mistaking Eric's thoughtful expression for worry.

"Actually, no," Eric grinned, coming out of his reverie. "But it was a mix-up that time too."

"Well, we shouldn't be in here long," Ritch said, standing and studying the names on the wall.

"Anyone you know up there?" Aaron asked.

"Nah, I never ran with this crowd," Ritch said. "Too violent."

Eric raised an eyebrow, questioning the exchange. With a grin, Aaron declared, "Ritch used to be a hippie."

"I did not," the older man said.

"I don't know man, anyone who attended Woodstock is a hippie in my book…"

"Woah, what?" Eric cut in. "You were at Woodstock? The real Woodstock?"

Ritch gave a small smile. "That's where I met Valerie."

Eric considered this for a moment. Ritch was almost 29, which would make him 20 or 21 at Woodstock.

"After that, he was part of the SDS," Aaron informed.

"The SDS?" Eric asked incredulously. "The Students-"

"Students for a Democratic Society," Ritch muttered. "I don't like to talk about it."

"Didn't the SDS turn into-"

"The Weather Underground," the older man said. "It was a faction of the SDS."

The Weather Underground, the militant group responsible for the Days of Rage, was a bleak mark on the reputation of the SDS, which had been conceived with Civil Rights and peace in mind. Also, some of the "Weathermen" had never been caught, so admitting that you had been a member around the start of the decade could possibly bring some suspicion down upon yourself.

"I quit the SDS long before it got violent," Ritch said. "And when I finished school, Valerie and I got married and settled here. I inherited the store from my dad when he died."

"Wow, that is…way more interesting than my life story," Eric said.

"Are you kidding?" Aaron said. "Have you been paying attention for the past few weeks? When I was 17, I was sitting in my basement teaching myself how to play guitar. Look at you, in jail."

"Yeah well, I didn't have to leave Point Place to get arrested because of a misunderstanding."

The door to the front room opened, and a grouchy clerical police officer entered.

"Hey, there are a couple ladies to see you."

He held the door open for the ladies in question, then went back into the front room. Joy and Valerie came into view, identical smug expressions on their faces.

"Hey Babe," Aaron said sheepishly, standing and walking to press his face against the bars. Joy just smiled and produced her Polaroid camera, snapping a picture of Aaron, then one of Eric, and finally one of Ritch. The last one she took and handed to Valerie before it had even finished developing.

"So what happened, exactly, Richard?" Valerie said, failing to hide her amusement and using her husband's full name, which she knew he hated.

"I think you're both enjoying this too much," Ritch said, eyebrow raised.

"Probably," Joy conceded. "Now explain."

The three prisoners took turns explaining what happened. At the end of the story, Joy kissed her boyfriend through the bars. "I brought your bail money. Yours too, Eric."

"You didn't have to-"

"We're not going to leave you in there," she said, smiling at the very thought. "You can owe me if it really bugs you."

"Great. Thanks," he said, relieved.

"I have your money too," Valerie said to Ritch with a smile, as the girls turned to go talk to the officer out front. They paid the man and he let them go, not stopping to think about the fact that the youngest of the three men vaguely matched the description of a teen that had gone missing a month before. Some sheriff from a nowhere town called….was it Point Bluff? Point Watch? Whatever, the fact was, he had called to notify them of a runaway teenager. None of this occurred to the officer on duty. Besides, why would a runaway kid come to Chicago just to steal a car?

...

The five young adults ended up at Aaron and Joy's apartment, drinking cokes and laughing off the night's escapades.

"You three have the worst luck," Valerie said from her spot on the couch.

"Babe, I never told you, but it runs in my family," Ritch said in mock-seriousness. "But lucky for us, it weakens with each generation. So our kids might have a fighting chance."

"Ha ha. Get arrested again and you'll never even have a chance at kids," his wife teased, kissing him on the nose.

Joy sat on the reina chair, while Aaron sat on the floor and leaned against the chair. He pulled out a bag of those pills that he'd given Eric at the club.

Aaron offered one to Ritch, who took it and popped it in his mouth, then settled back on the couch and closed his eyes.

Aaron and Joy each took one, then handed a little tablet to Eric.

"Is this acid?" Eric asked. He had experimented with weed, of course, and had tried one of these little pills a few weeks before, at the nightclub, but hadn't given them any thought at the time, or any time since.

"No, I don't mess with that crap," Aaron assured him. "Too rough. This is just modified prescription. Nothing official. Nothing dangerous."

Eric put it in his mouth, enjoying the short high. It was even better here than in the club, where he was nervous and twitchy. The faded lights made a kaleidoscope in front of his eyes.

When he started to come down, he looked to Aaron for another, but the older man shook his head.

"One at a time, man. If you're gonna use, you gotta be careful."

Eric just nodded and closed his eyes, riding the rest of the high right to sleep.

…..

He woke to the sensation of being nudged repeatedly. Cracking one eye open, Eric saw that Ritch was leaning over him, prompting him to wake up.

"Hey man," his older friend grinned. "I always forget that you're actually seventeen, and then you go and sleep 'till noon."

Eric shot into a sitting position, ignoring the head rush he inflicted upon himself. "Oh god I'm sorry, I didn't mean to miss work-"

"Woah, relax. It's Sunday. We're closed on Sundays, remember?"

"Sunday…" Eric muttered, looking around to find himself on the floor of Aaron and Joy's living room.

"You slept like a log. It's like you took cold syrup or something…" Ritch's grin faded when he realized what he'd said. "Hey, how many of those tablets did you have last night?"

"Just one," Eric reassured him, taking Ritch's hand to stand. "I feel fine."

"Those things seem to take longer than they should to get out of your system."

"I'll be careful," the teen promised. He didn't want to admit it, but it did concern him that he'd slept so hard after just one of those things. He'd taken one with an empty stomach, too, which probably explained why it had worked just a little too well. It also explained the dull ache and hunger he felt.

"Where's everyone else?"

"Joy's at work, Aaron's taking a shower, and Valerie went back to our place."

"When he gets out, can we get something to eat?"

"Sure," the store owner said, making a mental note to tell Aaron to be careful with those pills, especially where Eric was concerned.


	10. You Should Be Dancing

**Hey everybody! Sorry for the delay, I've had a bunch of tests this week and of course that takes priority (even if I don't want it to!) This one's a filler, but the next two chapters will be out soon, and they are definitely not fillers. By the way, it's my birthday! Reviews are always the best presents! Enjoy as always!**

That following day Eric had off of work, but since everyone else was busy with one thing or another, he had the whole day to himself. He'd intended to take another one of his walks along Lake Michigan, but unfortunately it was storming outside, and the resulting waves lapped too close to the walkway for comfort, warding off even the craziest of regulars.

The rain kept him away from the lake, but it didn't keep him inside. The teen was strolling down the street looking for something to do when he spotted a small movie theater. Eric had passed it several times over the past few weeks, but never went in, and figured this was a perfect time to give it a try.

The last movie he'd seen had been Star Wars, which was now his favorite film of all time, so his standards for movie-going were at an all-time high. (The last movie he'd seen before that was Annie Hall, during that interesting night out with his mother. Needless to say, he preferred Star Wars.)

Eric ducked in to the theater and glanced over the available movie titles. Nothing really caught his eye until he saw the board for the replay-movie, which was usually a film from the past few years, back for a limited time of showing. The throwback of the day was Three Days of the Condor, a Robert Redford thriller. He'd heard of it, and had wanted to see it, but never got around to it, since it came out when he was fifteen and his mother had insisted he see something less "violent."

Well, now was as good a time as ever, right? Pulling a few bills out of his wallet, he paid for the movie and popcorn and found a seat. Since it was the middle of the workday, on a rainy Monday, there was hardly anyone else in the theater with him. There was a young couple down in the front, but based on their current behavior Eric safely assumed that they had just come to make out in semi-privacy. A young girl, who must have been just a couple years older, sat a few rows in front of him by herself. Other than that, the place was empty when the lights dimmed and the film rolled.

Eric watched Robert Redford elude death time after time, but found himself staring at the landscape behind the actors. They were in New York City, which, according to his friends, was a heck of a lot different than Chicago. He'd taken this to mean it wasn't nearly as exciting as the Windy City, but they assured him that this was certainly not the case. New York was allegedly the utopia of exciting living: it was where music, art, television and business all happened. Donna had spoken of going there many times, and Hyde had even considered running away to New York with that punk chick Chrissy. Once again it hit Eric just how bizarre it was that he was the first one to run away from Point Place. It made more sense for Kelso to accidentally get lost and wind up out of the town's limits than for Eric to ever step foot over the Wisconsin state line…. and yet here he was in this little theater in Chicago, watching spellbound as Redford somehow managed to seduce Faye Dunaway despite having taken her as a prisoner.

It made him think of Donna, but he was somewhat pleased to note that thoughts of her no longer depressed him or made him want to hop the next bus to Point Place. It was with a sort of fondness that he thought of his ex-girlfriend. While he wasn't completely over her, he had certainly reached a turning point, and was beginning to notice other women around him with interest. Valerie was right- a lot of girls came in to the record shop, often wanting his advice on what to buy. Eric was absolutely hopeless with girls; it wasn't just the "lippiness" or "twitchiness" that Red had insisted were his greatest flaws, but also the fact that he couldn't for the life of him determine the difference between politeness and flirtation. Once a nice female customer would check out and leave the store, Aaron and Ritch often turned on Eric in exasperation, informing their young friend that the customer had been trying to flirt with him. Valerie and Joy quickly found out that Eric certainly wasn't going to make the first move, so they would bring girls to him at parties and clubs, introduce the two, then conveniently excuse themselves from the conversation. It wasn't necessarily that the four friends were forcing him to find a girlfriend, they just hoped that if Eric would at least talk to girls, he might get over Donna faster.

When the movie was over, the Point Place teen stood and stretched. Three Days of the Condor was great, he concluded, but it was no Star Wars.

The couple down in front didn't seem to understand that the credits were rolling, and continued their very intense game of tonsil hockey. The girl in front of him had shuffled her way out of her aisle and was walking towards the doors. He followed, hoping that the rain might have died down.

It hadn't. Water was pouring over the outside awning in a waterfall. Sighing, Eric sidestepped a young man with an impressive afro and pulled the collar of his denim jacket up over his neck as a sort of windbreaker. Just as he was about to go back out in to the pouring rain, a young female voice stopped him.

"Eric?"

The teen in question turned to face the girl who had been sitting in front of him in the movie. Now that he could see her face, he recognized her. Joy had introduced her to him almost a month prior, promising that the two had a lot in common. But what was her name…? He couldn't remember. As she walked closer to him, Eric concealed his panic. She knew his name, why couldn't he remember hers?!

The girl smiled when she stopped in front of him, and he nervously smiled back.

"Hey….you," he said, hoping she wouldn't notice. Lucky for him, she didn't.

"Hi, I thought that was you. Did you like the movie?"

"Oh yeah," he nodded. "Did you?"

She nodded. "I love Robert Redford. All of his movies are great."

Eric took a calculated risk, saying "You know, I've been told I look a bit like him."

The risk paid off when she laughed. "I don't know about that. You are cute, though."

This was going so well considering he could not remember what her name was.

His ears tinged red at her compliment, and he ducked his head with a laugh, embarrassed. "So, uhm…what brings you... I mean-"

"What brings me here on a Monday, by myself?" she smiled, saving him from further chagrin. "Just killing time before my brother gets off work. We're having a party at my place tonight- hey, you should come!"

Not giving him time to accept or decline, she continued. "Here, I'll write down the address. Oh, tell Joy and Aaron to come, too! It's nothing too big, but it should be fun."

She pulled a notepad and pen out of her purse and scribbled down the address, handing it to him. "Well, I gotta go. See you tonight," she said, opening an umbrella and walking the opposite direction down the street.

Eric looked at the address of her apartment and smiled, hoping that Aaron and Joy were free tonight. Glory of glories, the girl had written her name above her address: Amanda.

…..

That evening, Eric followed Joy and Aaron through the doors of the swanky apartment complex. The three were dressed to party- Aaron was sporting his signature fringed jacket, and Joy had changed from her work-dress to wide-legged pants and a colorful top. Eric was just trying to get the rain out of his hair before they made it to the party- as proud as he was of his Nesmith-esque haircut, the wave of hair over his forehead ran all of the rain directly into this face.

"It's too bad Ritch and Val couldn't come," Eric said as they rode the elevator up to the seventh floor of the building.

Joy smiled. "Trust me, they're happy just to close the shop for the night. As long as they're together."

They stepped off the elevator and quickly located the right door, which Aaron opened without knocking. The party was going on in full-swing, as dozens of couples socialized and danced to the music.

Amanda came into view, her green eyes flashing in delight. "You guys made it!" she said, hugging Joy enthusiastically. The two friends began to chat before a man who must have been a year or two older than Ritch came in to view.

"Oh, guys," she began, turning to Eric and his friends. "This is my brother, Max. Max, this is Eric, Aaron, and Joy."

Amanda's brother was a muscular guy with a curly perm and the rough beginnings of a beard. He seemed very friendly, but gave off the vibe that he was capable of dangerous things. That evening he wore a dark red shirt that was just tight enough on his chest to let any ladies nearby know that he was in excellent shape. With that he wore a standard grey jacket and pants ensemble that was the mode of the times. A couple of golden medallions hung around his neck, making him look like a member of the Bee Gees. The only difference was the set of dog tags that rested with them.

Aaron nodded toward the tags. "You serve in Vietnam?"

foreshadowing

Max nodded. "For a while. You?"

Aaron shook his head. He didn't want to admit that he had been too young to serve at the height of the fighting ten years prior, nor did he want to say that he disapproved of the Vietnam conflict. But he did respect the soldiers who fought, which he indicated by saying, "No, but my brother did."

Eric looked at his friend in surprise. The grim expression on Joy's face told the teen not to ask about it.

Max seemed to understand by Aaron's tone that his brother never made it home, and nodded. Before the pause could become awkward, the veteran turned to Joy

and his sister. "So, how do you two know each other?"

"We toured with Ted Nugent together," Amanda giggled, sharing a conspiratorial smile with Joy.

Aaron smiled and put an arm around his girlfriend. Glancing between Eric and Amanda, he grinned.

"Amanda," he began, smirking at Eric. "Eric here has had a really rough week. He could use a good dancing partner."

Eric tried to give his friend a death glare, but Aaron was immune.

"Sure!" Amanda agreed, grabbing Eric's hand and leading him to the center of the room with the other couples. They danced for a while, and had a lot of fun. Eric found himself developing quite a crush on this exciting girl, who had seen and done so much in her short life.

At the end of the party, Eric and his friends were among the last to leave. The Wisconsinite had finished saying goodbye to Amanda and her brother and was about to exit the apartment when Aaron and Joy each grabbed one of his arms.

"Where're we going?" he feigned nonchalance as his friends turned him around.

"We are going to wait here while you ask her out," Joy encouraged.

"What? No, I don't-"

"We saw the way you were looking at her, man," Aaron said. "And she was looking at you the same way."

"Yeah, right."

"I promise she'll say yes," Joy said gently. "You've worked hard at the store for weeks, you've moved on from Donna, and you got arrested this past week for a crime you didn't commit. You deserve to have some fun."

Eric realized she was right. Turning to find Amanda, he said. "You're right."

Aaron and Joy shared a triumphant smile before he added, "Just for the record, I've had fun every day since I've gotten here. Even when he got arrested."

They smiled, and Aaron spoke. "This was gonna be a surprise, but we got five tickets to go see Pink Floyd on Thursday. We got you an extra, so you could bring a girl."

Before Eric could even express his surprise or happiness, they poked him forward. "Go invite her!" Joy said.

The seventeen year old strode forward, but lost all of his bravado once Amanda turned towards him.

"Hey…Amanda…"

She waited patiently for him to continue.

"I, uh, I have these tickets for Pink Floyd on Thursday, and I was wondering if you'd maybe want to come?"

It certainly felt as awkward as it sounded, but it really wasn't Eric's fault- he hadn't really asked out a girl since Donna, years before.

"I'd love to," she smiled sweetly, giving him a peck on the cheek. "I'll see you Thursday."

Eric smiled and opened his mouth to say something else, but Aaron cleared his throat from across the room, warning him to end on a high note.

"Okay, I'll…I'll see you Thursday!" he said, telling her goodbye once more, and following his friends out of the apartment.

….

"This calls for a celebration!" Aaron called into the empty record shop. Ritch appeared, preparing to tell the new customers that they were closed, but he brightened when he saw that it was his friends.

"What does?" Valerie asked in interest, walking out from behind her husband.

"Eric just got a date."

"Alright!" Ritch said, clapping his friend on the back. "It's about time."

"Thanks, guys," Eric said at their teasing, but he was at least partially sincere. Looking around at his friends, he felt so at home. For the first time, he sincerely considered staying in Chicago for good. Who needed Point Place when you were this happy without it?

Joy noticed the thoughtful expression on his face. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he said. In this moment, absolutely nothing was wrong.


	11. I Want You (She's So Heavy)

It was agreed that everyone would meet at the store before heading off to the concert as a group. Since it was his first real date in a very long time, Eric was pacing the space in front of the cash register, trying to keep it together while he waited for Amanda to arrive. Valerie sat behind the counter, resting her elbow on the top and resting her chin in her hand.

"Eric, relax," she admonished gently. "She'll be here. You look great- just be sure to tell her she looks great, then we'll all go and enjoy the concert."

He nodded, brushing some hair away from his face, but her advice did very little to quell the butterflies that had taken up residence in his stomach.

Ritch went to the back and returned with a handful of beers; he handed them out, hoping one might help Eric to calm down a little bit. There was no way he would get anywhere with Amanda if he was too busy trying to keep his heart rate in check.

Aaron and Joy were leaning against the front of the counter, watching their young friend with the same curiosity they had when they had first seen him wander down the sidewalk, before he'd nearly been mowed down by that skateboarder.

"It's good to see Chicago hasn't changed you too much," Aaron quipped, noting that Eric had the same delirious look he'd worn on that first afternoon.

Before the young Forman could respond with his own sarcastic quip, the bell over the front door dinged and Amanda appeared, dressed like a proper former-groupie, voluminous hair and all. She looked like a girl Hyde would definitely approve of; she looked like a rock-and-roll muse.

"Hi," she said, to Eric more than anyone else.

"Hey," the four older adults chorused back, and Eric responded with his own nervous "Hi," which made her smile. He kicked himself nevertheless- it was time to turn down the twitchy. "You look…" What was that word Valerie had used? "You look great."

"Thanks," she said. "So do you."

"Everybody ready to go?" Ritch asked, taking Valerie's hand and ushering everyone out of the shop. Under the watchful gaze of the band posters, Ritch flipped a switch, cutting the florescent haze of the store and locking the front door behind them.

It wasn't too far a walk to Soldier Field, the stadium in which Pink Floyd was fixing to perform. The little group of six listed songs they hoped the band would play as they waited in line. Once they made it to their spots, Eric looked around in wonder. He knew the stadium was big, but he was shocked at the sheer number of people in attendance: there must have been close to a hundred thousand fans present.

A rush of adrenaline coursed through the teen when the band appeared on stage. The entire stadium erupted in a roar of cheers and screams, echoing his feelings. The only other large concert Eric had ever been to was Ted Nugent, which had been incredible, but the turnout for a rock concert in the Oshkosh area of Wisconsin was nothing compared to this.

"Hello, Chicago," Roger Waters' voice came over the roar, which was answered by more screaming and cheering. The psychedelic tones of the first song came on, and Eric felt Amanda slip her hand in to his. He looked down at her to find that she was already smiling up at him. His heart puttered a little in response, and he smiled as they turned back to enjoy the concert, waves of the electric guitar washing over them. No drugs were necessary, though most of the audience was most likely on some substance or another. Eric just drank in the music and, for a moment, wondered how life could get any better.

….

When the last bars of the encore song were played and the band left the stage, the crowd began to file out of the stadium. It was still fairly early in the evening, and Eric began to think of where else he could stop with Amanda before taking her back to her apartment. Maybe for coffee somewhere? He didn't actually drink the stuff, but it would be nice to talk for a while- very few words were exchanged during the performance.

The six young adults left the stadium, and Eric turned to his date.

"So, would you, uh, like to get some coffee with me? There's this place not far from my hotel that should still be open-"

"Actually Eric," Amanda cut in as nicely as possible. "I think I'm gonna call it a night."

Not admitting to himself that this hurt his feelings a little, Eric frowned.

"Are you sure? I mean it's not that late…"

"Yeah, I had a really nice time," she said earnestly, "but I've got to get up early in the morning, so…"

"Sure," Eric agreed politely, stifling his disappointment. He wasn't all that great with women, but even Eric Forman knew when he was being let down easy. Ignoring that, he pressed forward.

"Thanks for coming…Could I see you again?" he asked, and the look in her eyes told him no before she even opened her mouth.

"I'm kinda busy all this week," she stalled. Eric's friends watched the exchange discreetly from a few yards away.

"Okay, well, do you need me to take you home?" he offered, trying desperately to conceal his embarrassment.

"No, I'll get a cab," Amanda said, attempting to prevent an awkward walk home with him. It was not that she hadn't liked spending time with Eric, but she realized about halfway through the night that she wasn't all that into him, and that there really was no point in pursuing a relationship that she felt was dead from the beginning.

As she thanked him for the night and left, Aaron came up behind Eric and put his arm around his shoulder in an attempt to comfort his young friend.

"Cheer up, Forman," he encouraged, leading Eric back to where their other friends were standing. The four had figured out what was going on when Amanda had turned to catch a cab, and were waiting with moral support ready.

"It's her loss," Valerie said.

"I'm sorry, Eric," Joy offered, annoyed that her friend had put him down so quickly. "She never was terribly bright."

Eric snorted. He'd thought things were going great with Amanda. Was it him? Did he do something wrong? He hadn't been on a proper date in a while, but surely he wasn't that rusty? Maybe it wasn't just Donna or Amanda he couldn't have... maybe this was indicative of a bigger problem-

"Snap out of it, Eric," Ritch said, seeing the downward spiral of despair evident on his friend's face. "Chicago isn't Point Place. If you don't want to, odds are you'll never see her again."

"And there are other girls," Valerie added.

Joy glanced around and smiled when she saw what she was looking for. A cluster of trucks, buses, and security cars sat at the far end of the stadium, and taking Eric's hand, led the group towards the activity. "I think I know what will make you feel better," she said.

"Drinking?" he deadpanned, and she just tugged on his arm without stopping.

They passed some roadies loading amps into a truck, and when they came to a large security guard who was blocking the door to the backstage area, Joy simply flashed a charming smile.

"Hi, we're with the band," she said.

"Never heard that one before," the guard said, not in the mood. "Get lost."

Unperturbed, she continued. "Is there a Linda Maddox back there?"

"How should I know?"

While this exchange was going down, Eric watched a bunch of attractive young women exit the door with some of the roadies. They leaned up against the wall and pulled out cigarettes, taking a break from whatever wild excitement was going on inside.

One of the taller women looked up in curiosity to see who these fans were. Recognizing Joy's voice, she came forward.

"Joy!"

"Linda!" Joy smiled, pulling her old friend in for a hug. "How are you?"

"I'm great! Wasn't the show just unbelievable? David's not too happy with this setlist, poor thing, but I think it's spectacular."

It took Eric a minute to realize that this 'David' was David Gilmour, one of the members of the band. He had to remind himself not to ask stupid questions like "You know David Gilmour?!" This groupie, or supporter, as Joy preferred, was clearly on familiar terms with the band.

Linda looked around, over Joy's head to where Eric, Aaron, Ritch and Valerie were standing. "So I haven't seen you in a while, who are you touring with right now?"

"Nobody at the moment," Joy said, gesturing to her boyfriend. "You remember Aaron."

"Yes! Good to see you, glad you guys could make the show," Linda said. Noticing Eric, she smiled. "Who's this cutie?"

"This is Eric," Joy said, pulling him forward. The other groupies against the wall were now looking on in curiosity. "Remember Amanda? She came here with him, but she split on us right after the concert."

"Oh, I'm sorry," Linda said in sympathy. "Would you like to come and hang out with us for a while? The band's cooling off and resting for a few minutes, so I don't think you'll get to see them, but everyone else is here."

Joy smiled at Eric with a mischievous look before gesturing for everyone to follow her through the backstage door.

...

Every fantasy he'd had, every article he'd read in Rolling Stone, every story Joy and Aaron told him about life in the music business….none of that could possibly have prepared Eric for the world he stumbled upon when he crossed the threshold into that backstage party. It was like falling down the rabbit hole and winding up in a psychedelic, music-fueled wonderland. Approximately a dozen female groupies scattered around an extra dressing room, with food, alcohol and pills lying everywhere in between. The girls were dressed (to various extents) in fur, glitter, sequence, and leather. The hazy room was lit up with dim electric lights, and some album that Eric didn't recognize was blaring from a record player in the corner. While the actual members of Pink Floyd weren't present, the members of the opening act were hanging out (and making out) with the groupies.

The partiers regarded the newcomers with interest, and some even recognized Joy. As it turned out, Joy was rather famous in the rock-and-roll community, at least as far as the groupies were concerned. Few girls as young as Joy had known as many rockstars or seen as many historic concerts. There were even rumors that one or two recent songs were inspired by her. And to top all of that, the fact that she had settled down in a real relationship with a member of a band gave all the other groupies hope that such a thing might happen for them.

So, suffice it to say, Joy was a living legend among these partiers, who either came up to greet their old friend, or to meet her for the first time. She took this all in stride, hugging all of her old friends, and greeting each new acquaintance with her calm, humble demeanor. She looked so comfortable in this overwhelming environment; she was in her element.

Ritch and Valerie sort of drifted to the edges of the excitement, happy to observe and to strike up a conversation with a roadie about the concert. While Aaron stayed close by his girlfriend, Eric moved to follow his married friends to the outside of the main fray. That is, until a young woman approached him.

"Hi, I'm Chelsea," the girl said without preamble.

"I'm Eric," the teen said, looking down at her but taking a step back. This girl was much shorter than he was, but she had such a commanding presence that she took energy from the room- to be too close to her was almost draining. She was pretty in the same way that Jackie was pretty, but this Chelsea girl seemed sharper and far more worldly. As a groupie, she'd seen and done some crazy things- the crazy showed in her eyes.

Eric was fascinated.

"So you're here with Joy?" she asked, taking a step forward, closing the space between them.

"Oh, yeah, Joy and Aaron…" he looked around for Valerie and Ritch, and nodded in their direction. "And our friends Valerie and Ritch Thompson. They own a record store a few blocks away."

"Far out. And what about you?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you from here? Are you in Aaron's band or something?"

"No, I'm just a friend…visiting from Wisconsin." Eric had stopped telling people he was from Point Place, because they tended to either look at him in confusion (not knowing where on earth Point Place was) or in disdain (who wants to talk to some kid from Point Place, Wisconsin?)

"Wisconsin, that's cool. I'm from New York."

He perked up in interest. "New York? As in New York City? That's awesome. I've never been."

Finding the transition she was looking for, Chelsea smiled. "Maybe we could go somewhere quieter and I'll tell you all about it?"

Such a blatant offer had never been given to the teen in his life.

Taking his pause for a yes, she smiled again and took his hand. "There are a bunch of back rooms that nobody's using."

Eric grinned like an idiot, following her without a thought.

Because they were in a football stadium, there was a very limited number of comfortable rooms in the vicinity; anything close to comfort was surely being occupied by the members of the band. Nevertheless, the pair of young rockers found themselves a quiet nook: an empty changing room with little more than some cubbies for personal belongings, a pair of benches, and a couch.

"So," Eric said, sitting down on a bench. They were the long and thin type commonly found in athletic locker rooms, which enabled Chelsea to sit next to him and still straddle the seat. She leaned towards him ever so slightly, and he gulped.

"So," he began again. "What's New York like?"

"Oh, it's a blast," she said, leaning back. "The people, the buildings…oh, and the music's really happening there. Really different from Chicago, though. How're you liking it here?"

"I love it," he said. "And I'd love to see New York some time, too."

"Well," Chelsea said, her eyes shifting down to his lips and back to his eyes again. "Maybe you can come visit me there one day."

He started to say "I'd like that," but was cut off by the force of her lips on his.

Eric's entire body shuddered as though he'd been shocked. It did feel like electricity was running through his veins. Besides that surreal kiss he'd shared with a tearful Donna the night he left Point Place, Eric hadn't been kissed in well over a year. And while this kiss didn't hold all of the passion, romance, and love that he'd shared with Donna, this kiss did denote arousal and attraction, which was more than enough.

Chelsea smiled into their kiss when he shuddered, and leaned back once more. Eric opened his eyes (which he hadn't realized were closed) once she pulled away from him. Reaching in to her pocket, Chelsea produced a small baggie of pills, one of which she took, and one she offered to Eric.

He took it from her, again without thinking, assuming that these were the same type of pills that he'd tried twice before- as Aaron had said, modified prescription, nothing more. This tablet certainly looked the same. It certainly wasn't.

...

A few minutes later, Aaron caught up with Valerie and Ritch, who were still engrossed in their conversation with the roadie.

"Hey, you seen Eric anywhere? There are some great chicks here that he might like."

"He went off with some girl," Ritch smirked.

"Good," Aaron grinned. "Glad to see he's not taking the whole thing with Amanda too hard."

"We just gotta make sure he gets back in one piece," Ritch said. "That girl looked really into him."

"He deserves it."

...

After several minutes of making out, things were getting steamier. However, in the back of his mind, Eric was confused as to why the pill Chelsea gave him wasn't kicking in. Usually he had problems with them being too strong, not too weak! But after a while of this fooling around, Chelsea pulled away and took his hand, leading him from the benches, onto the couch. The young Forman followed readily, but as he stood, a marvelous head rush hit him with all the force of a punch. His vision pulsed and sounds blurred.

A bizarre feeling of happiness rushed over him, and Eric felt Chelsea fumbling with the buttons on his shirt. He moved to help her in an attempt to speed up the process, but his shirt somehow felt different. He couldn't quite place the feeling…

He blinked at the lights in the ceiling and shook his head. But the girl in his arms kissed him again, distracting him. Eric kissed her back, and they fell backwards onto the couch.

And so began the most amazing, frightening, and bizarre two hours of Eric Forman's life.


	12. Bohemian Rhapsody

**Okay guys, sex and drugs abounds. If it offends you, just read the last two or three paragraphs to know what is going on. There's nothing graphic or vulgar, but lots of suggestive material. Also, this chapter isn't a commentary on any opinions on drug use. It is just based on the accounts of acquaintances who have tripped- I've never done any drugs at all, so I had to rely on what I've read and heard. Nevertheless, please let me know what you think! Enjoy!**

By some miracle, his jacket and shirt came off. Even without the garments, Eric felt very warm. He looked up into the eyes of the girl on top of him (they had fallen back onto the couch, Eric on his back, her chest on his) and noticed just how insanely dilated her pupils were. What he didn't realize was just how dilated his own eyes were becoming.

He could feel himself slipping into a state that was totally unfamiliar to him. Instead of panicking, he felt completely relaxed about the whole thing, and welcomed the new sensation. His hands and feet were tingling, and it felt like this new feeling was slowly washing over him, until his legs were totally submerged, then his torso, his arms, and finally his head. And he was tripping.

It had taken several minutes for the drugs to take effect, and Chelsea had expertly timed the whole thing so that their clothes were just coming off as the drugs were just kicking in.

She sat up a little bit and he followed, helping her get her top off. Chelsea's paisley blouse seemed to unravel- the colors were blurring outside of the lines the shirt imposed, and her hair seemed to meld with the florescent lights above and behind her head, like a halo. And suddenly, the colors, and the shirt, were gone. She had taken it off while he was distracted. Her black bra certainly caught his attention, but it wasn't exactly the swirling lights or colors that did it.

The teen felt that time had either stopped, or was somehow going backward- whatever the case, it couldn't possibly be moving forward.

This was a better sensation than anything he'd ever felt. It was physical and emotional. Not bliss, not ecstasy….pure euphoria.

Her lips were doing something wonderful to his jaw, and he decided to retaliate by giving her collarbone the same treatment. Chelsea definitely liked it, because she pushed him forward again, reaching behind her to get off her bra.

In between these little increments came sensations of color and sound and feeling in various forms. He moods swung like a metronome on its fastest frequency, but he never got physically tired; that being said, Eric's mind did swing from drowsy to alert, though at a much slower pace than his emotions.

Eric felt his partner undoing the buckle on his belt, and tugging it off of his pants even while he was lying down. She wasn't wearing a belt, so he had the advantage in this little race. Next thing he knew, they were both stripped down only to their underwear. At some point, they both took another pill, and continued their activity.

How much time had passed? Five minutes? Five years? There was no clock in the little changing room, though Eric most likely would have visualized it melting off the wall anyway.

After that, it was all about sensation. He wasn't sure how much time they actually spent "doing it," but he was sure that he could actually feel the muffled music blaring from the party, several rooms down. He was sure that Chelsea was soft, and that his body was on fire- in a good way.

This went on for a long time; intervals of blissful rest, making out, and more euphoria.

….

After an hour and a half was expended at this party, Aaron and Joy wandered back over to where Ritch and Valerie were hanging out.

"Hey, how long has Eric been gone?" Aaron asked.

Ritch glanced at his watch, "I'd say…bout an hour."

Aaron smiled, but Valerie wasn't so sure. "Don't you think someone should at least find out where he went?"

"Babe, I'm sure he's fine," Ritch said.

"More than fine, I'd wager," Aaron snarked, which earned a snicker from Ritch. Both girls smacked their partners lightly on the chest.

"He's seventeen," Valerie reminded her husband.

"Yeah, remember all the stuff you and I were doing at seventeen?"

"You two sound like an old married couple," Joy interrupted. "You're both under thirty. But I do think someone should at least check to see where he is."

"If you wanna go walking in on him when he's with a girl, you go ahead," Aaron said, unconvinced.

Valerie looked at the doorway that Eric passed through with that groupie, and saw a sullen looking guy, clearly on something, standing near the entrance.

"Excuse me," she practically had to shout over the music as she approached the man. "Did you see a young man go through here with a pretty girl?"

The guy smirked. "Every seven minutes."

"Okay," she said, pinching the bridge of her nose, trying to think of what Eric and Chelsea had been wearing. "She's short, about my height, with blonde hair, and she had a paisley shirt. He has hair brown hair, sort of long and parted. It goes over one eyebrow…like a grown out bowl cut."

The guy thought for a minute, then nodded. "They went that way," he gestured down the hall. "Probably five or six rooms down."

"Thank you," she smiled, then returned to her little group. "Now we have a general idea of where he is, should something happen."

….

Eric laid on the couch with Chelsea in his arms, both of them staring into space. They were taking a break from their relations to simply ride their trips and enjoy their time together. The lights above Eric spiraled and danced. Chelsea traced a little pattern along his chest with her fingers, and even though she hardly put a thought into the action, it felt amazing to him.

While the drugs he'd taken in the past always began with a pleasant sensation and slowly wore off as he came down, this one seemed to only build and build, as though the high he felt were just getting more and more powerful. Chelsea took one more pill and handed another to him, which he took readily, never wanting this feeling to end. When the two young people went back at it once again, the high seemed to explode and hit him harder than it had any time before. Eric felt so powerful, almost enlightened. This was even more amazing than it had been ten minutes before. There was no way that he could be filled with even another ounce of happiness and sensation. Colors flashed and danced, every touch was electric. This was rhapsody he'd never experienced before.

This time, as they finished up, he sat back to try and look at the lights again, only to jerk back in fear.

The scar along his forearm from his mugging seemed to open up, blood spilling out of it.

Staggering off the couch, Eric clutched his hand to his arm to stop the bleeding. He whipped his head around, looking for a sink to wash off the blood. For just a moment, the happiness went away. But as he looked down to assess the sudden damage his arm had mysteriously sustained, he blinked in surprise. The blood was gone, his scar was still all healed over.

Chelsea was blinking at him in confusion, asking what was wrong. He described what had happened, and she just shrugged.

"That happens sometimes," she said, coaxing him back onto the couch.

That happened sometimes? What did she mean? Did this drug (Eric still didn't comprehend that it was LSD) make one start and stop bleeding? No, impossible. There wasn't a speck of red in sight, now. He was just seeing things.

Assuming he had just been seeing things, Eric sat down again, only to be frightened when he saw that the lights on the ceiling seemed to spark and pop, like fireworks, and the muffled music became a roaring rush in his ears.

Not liking these new developments, Eric groped around for his pants, which looked to him as though they'd been melted, and pulled them on. They stayed on, so they weren't melted, he figured.

Chelsea wasn't feeling this same unpleasant sensation, and happily dressed. She pulled Eric in for a kiss, and for a moment he shifted his focus back to her, pulling her in against him where they stood.

She broke the embrace first with a smile, which he returned, and they finished putting all of their clothes back on.

When they were all ready, they unlocked the door to the locker room and returned to the hallway.

It had been two hours since they'd disappeared together, and the party was still in full swing. But Eric's mind translated the sounds at a volume greater than reality- so the music sounded louder than screams, and it hurt his ears. It also freaked him out.

Chelsea kissed him again, (though this time he hardly felt it) before smiling at him and wandering off into the room. He watched her go, then suddenly Aaron and Joy were in front of him, smiling and talking, though they sounded like they were under water. Eric shook his head, and clarity came back to him for a moment.

They didn't notice how distracted he was, and instead led him over to where Ritch and Val were standing. He heard them talking, and answered back articulately, but his eyes were trained on some sequins that had ended up on the ground- they seemed to be sparkling and dancing around….

Ritch noticed how Eric was watching the floor with such fascination, but at first he chocked it up to the teen being worn out after two hours of fooling around. Smiling slightly, he put his hand on Eric's shoulder and shook gently.

Once again alert, Eric lifted his eyes to meet his friend's. Ritch immediately noticed how large Eric's pupils were- it was impossible not to notice. Panic set in; while the older man was fairly liberal when it came to drug use, his experience taught him to be careful, and it was clear that Eric hadn't been careful at all.

"Jesus Christ," Ritch said in alarm. "What the hell did you take?"

Valerie and Aaron noticed next, then Joy. Not understanding their alarm, Eric shrugged.

"Just some more of what we've been having before. Those pills."

Aaron quickly grabbed his friend by the arm and inspected his face. "No way, man. You didn't have anything that mild. God, you're up there right now, aren't you?"

It was never good to be on such a powerful high and have no idea what it was that you originally took to get that high. It was dangerous. While his friends were fairly certain that Eric was tripping on acid, there was more than enough room for doubt and worry.

"At least he's coherent," Valerie supplied.

Joy turned Eric so that he was facing her. "Eric, you said you took pills, right? How many did you take?"

Eric shrugged."Two or three I guess." He was back to a happier place, and when he wasn't speaking or being spoken to, the teen was staring at the lights and colors that were blurring and blending in front of him.

"God," Aaron groaned again, then looked at Ritch. "We should get him out of here."

Ritch nodded. "Come on, Eric, we're gonna go."

Since he was currently very open to suggestion, Eric followed his friends out the door obediently. As they walked down the street, his friends kept a close watch on him. They didn't have to guide or carry him, but they were careful to ensure that he didn't wander off the sidewalk and in to traffic.

Once they were in the record store, Ritch locked the door while Aaron and the girls took Eric upstairs, into Ritch and Val's home, and sat their tripping friend down on the couch. They watched him stare into space, with no idea what he might be seeing.

"Well, he's calm, so there's nothing really to do but let him ride it out," Aaron said to Valerie, who nodded.

"He seems to be enjoying it well enough."

"That's what it's made for," Aaron stated the obvious, going into the kitchen to get some water. "I just can't believe he took more than one dose."

"He said he took two or three," Valerie said, peeking back in to their living room, where Joy was hanging out with Eric.

"He might have taken more," Ritch said, appearing from downstairs. "That's the only reason I'm worried. He could overdose. Otherwise he should be fine."

They all hung out in the living room, each drinking a soda or some water (there was no way alcohol was getting involved). The friends watched some television, occasionally asking Eric what he was seeing, or how he was feeling. By this point, the teen was completely coherent, but still feeling the full effects of the drug. He sat and watched TV, but instead of seeing the program that was on, he just heard colors and saw sounds. Or was it the other way around…?

Approximately three hours after the first pill had been taken, and twenty minutes since they'd returned to the apartment, things took a turn for the worse.

Joy was in the process of standing and walking to the kitchen to get more water when the walls of the room seemed to disappear in Eric's mind, replaced by nothing but a black abyss. It seemed that Joy was about to stroll into the oblivion, and this scared the Wisconsin teen immensely.

"Wait!" he said, speaking for the first time in ten minutes, and causing all four of his friends to whip their heads around to see what was wrong. Joy stopped in her tracks, not wanting to upset him. Eric tried to stand, but his arms and legs felt stretched and useless. Everything in the room suddenly returned to the same physical order it had been in before, but the colors changed; everything in the room, including his friends and his own body, seemed to be solarized, like they were in some pop art piece.

Finally getting himself into a standing position, Eric swayed, and Ritch and Aaron were immediately on either side of him, holding him steady. This should have been comforting, but it induced a crawling sensation up and down his arms, and Eric meekly tried to remove their hold on him.

"Hey, calm down Eric," Aaron said soothingly. Having experienced bad trips in the past, and having comforted friends on bad trips, he knew that it was important to keep the young man relaxed.

Eric was still trying to get their hands off his arms, so Aaron and Ritch guided him back to the sofa and sat him back down before releasing him.

It didn't work, because Eric simply saw the room tilt at an unrealistic angle. He had known since the start that his hallucinations were the results of the drug he'd ingested, but by this point, he wasn't sure anymore.

Valerie came in to his line of sight, and spoke softly but deliberately.

"Eric, you're on something. Whatever you're seeing is not real. If you try to enjoy yourself, it will be better."

"It's not real," Eric told himself, but he still wasn't convinced. When he tried to make eye contact with Valerie, her eyes turned red, which frightened him, and he attempted to stand up again.

"Give him room, don't freak him out," Ritch warned. "Don't want him to have a bad trip."

It was at that point that Eric was too far gone. No matter what they said or did, it would have little effect on what he saw and felt. His depth perception went haywire, and in one moment he thought he was fifty feet over the ground, in another he thought he was being pulled down through the floor.

The intensification of emotions was now a bad thing. Where happiness had been ecstasy, fear was now horror.

His friends' faces shifted and warped, and Eric tried to step away from them, only to stumble and fall backwards on the floor.

Hitting his head seemed to send his trip back to factory settings; he was suddenly feeling very happy again, and closed his eyes. Eric was unaware that Aaron and Ritch were on their knees next to him, making sure he didn't hurt himself in his fall. For just a moment, everything seemed to be okay.

Until he opened his eyes again.

The ceiling looked like it was cracking and crumbling. He had to get away before it could fall on him! Thrashing around against the two sets of arms that were pinning him down, Eric cried out. Still the ceiling crumbled, and still the arms pinned him down. It was then that the young Forman concluded that his friends must have been trying to keep him down so that the ceiling could fall and crush him. Never mind that it would spell their deaths as well- as long as he was taken care of.

He had to get away from these people. In desperation, Eric shot out of Ritch's grasp and stood, racing for the door that led back down into the record shop. Terrified that his friend would fall down the stairs and injure himself, Aaron tackled Eric before he could grab the knob, and pinned him back down.

The average trip could last a few hours, and since Eric took multiple doses, there was no telling how long he might be like this.

Ritch wanted to shout at Eric to calm down, but shouting would be disastrous. It was clear that Eric was in a paranoid state, and was most likely frightened of his friends. Still, they had to do something, since the situation was only escalating at this point.

"Babe, we have to take him to the hospital. He's going to hurt himself," Valerie said, her eyes misty as they watched their young friend flail under Aaron's grasp, his dilated eyes darting all over as they saw unreal dangers.

Truly, Eric was only getting more worked up, and started shouting incoherently. Ritch was now positive that Eric had taken at least three doses of the drug, possibly. And since one pill of a mild narcotic could cause the teen to sleep for half a day, there was no telling what three pills of this powerful substance could do. At best, Eric would continue this nightmare for several more hours, which could wreak havoc on his health. At worst, he could have a seizure or hurt himself, possibly overdose from whatever was in his system.

Aaron looked up from where he was holding Eric to make eye contact with Ritch. The fear the older man felt was reflected in the musician's eyes. They were conflicted about what the right thing was for Eric's safety.

However, the decision was made for them when Eric took advantage of Aaron's distraction and rolled him off of his chest, and jerked the door open, promptly tumbling down the first flight of stairs.

Joy cried out in fear as the two guys rushed down after their friend, who was still conscious (the first flight was only six or seven steps) and lying on the landing. He seemed fine, but was clearly still seeing something scary as his eyes were locked on something that wasn't there.

"Alright, we're going to the hospital," Ritch said, trying to hide his panic, lifting up the skinny teen in his arms effortlessly. "Someone go get the car."


	13. Don't Fear the Reaper

**Hey guys! Thanks for the nice reviews- especially to my "guest" reviewer from the last chapter. You made my day!**

Dehydration, a generous bump on the head, a sprained wrist, and a scarred psyche were the inflictions Eric immediately felt when he woke up to find himself in a hospital bed. He was sore, exhausted, and a little hungry, considering he hadn't eaten in almost 24 hours.

Groaning, he tried to sit up, but a determined pair of hands pushed him back into the inclined bed. The hands belonged to Aaron, who stared at his younger friend with a mix of concern and anger.

"Hey," Eric croaked. "What happened?"

"You don't remember?" Aaron said, both emotions increasing slightly.

Aaron had posted himself by Eric's bedside, not leaving even for a moment. He had somehow got it into his head that this was his fault; he had been the last person to have a steady grip on Eric before the teen's tumble down the stairs. Even after Joy, Ritch, Valerie, and several nurses reminded him that it wasn't even remotely his fault, he refused to move until he was sure his friend would be okay.

Even while assuring Aaron that he was not to blame, the rest of the gang couldn't help but feel a little guilty themselves. Joy blamed herself for bringing Eric around the craziness that was a concert after-party. Ritch and Val couldn't help but kick themselves for not keeping closer track of their young friend.

But none of this mattered when Eric's eyes opened, only a few hours after Ritch first carried him through the doors of the hospital, asking for assistance in the calmest voice he could muster, given his internal panic. By the time they'd made it to the hospital, Eric was writhing and thrashing in his friend's arms, frightened at whatever he was seeing.

The nurses promptly put him on a stretcher, and a doctor administered a dose of valium to calm the panicking and seizing. Then they placed him in a dim, quiet room to keep him relaxed, and after a long period of "winding-down," Eric finally passed out. He'd been asleep ever since, during which time a sweet nurse came in and bandaged the sprained wrist that was the result of his stairway accident.

Now that he was awake, Eric blinked his eyes against the horror that he'd experienced over the night. He did remember: everything up until his fall, that is. But the memory seemed to be just as vivid and frightening as the real thing.

"Yeah," Eric said finally. "I do remember."

Aaron looked on, noticing the emotions that played across his friend's face. Eric noticed Aaron's silence and realized the frustration rubbing underneath the musician's placid demeanor.

"You gave us quite the scare, man," he said. "I haven't seen anybody that spun in a while."

"What did I take?"

"We're pretty sure you were up with Purple Haze."

Eric raised his eyebrow. His mind was still too fuzzy to translate slang into english. "Huh?"

"Acid."

Eric's eyes widened at that. He remembered taking some pills, but they'd looked similar to the ones he'd taken with his friends. "I thought they were like the ones you carried around."

"Which is why you took three?" Aaron gritted his teeth. Eric once again picked up on his anger.

"What's wrong with you?"

"What's wrong with me?" Aaron began, flaring his nostrils. "You could have died. You fell down a flight of stairs- you're just lucky that you only fell down the first set, and not all the way down. You didn't know who we were. You started seizing, Eric. I've been around the block with the stuff, but I've never seen a trip that bad that didn't end in death."

Eric didn't say anything, shocked at the outburst. He'd never seen the easygoing man so upset before. Finally, he broke the silence.

"Hey…hey…I'm sorry," he said softly. "I was stupid. I should have-"

"No, no, man, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to blow up at you. We were all just worried."

The teen glanced around the room. "Where is everyone else?"

"In the cafeteria, they should be back soon."

When the three did appear, Joy launched into Eric's arms, squeezing the breath out of him. Aaron had to pull her off of him before she suffocated the Point Place native. Valerie went the more demure route, gently embracing Eric and giving him a peck on the cheek. Ritch put his hand on Eric's shoulder; a nonverbal communication of his relief at seeing Eric awake.

"If you ever do something so stupid again, I'll kill you myself," Ritch warned.

"Trust me, I won't," Eric said. Despite his lighthearted attitude, he continually had to blink and shake his head to get the images from the previous night's trip out of his mind. He felt nauseous just from thinking of the way the walls had crumbled and collapsed down upon him, how his friends looked like demons, how he was frightened of the oblivion that threatened to swallow him up. What freaked him out the most, however, was that he didn't remember coming to the hospital, didn't remember falling down the stairs. He'd been conscious at that point, but reality hadn't been visible to him at the time.

He'd heard some stories of drug use gone wrong, but ending up in the hospital?

"How much did I take? It must have been bad," he asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"Well, you said you took two or three doses, but you were still high when we asked, so who knows. My best bet is three. You'd probably still be tripping if they hadn't sedated you," Ritch informed. "One hit might have kept you up there for hours."

The teen could feel the heat rising in his cheeks and ears. A few months on his own, and he ends up in the hospital. He'd been doing so well! Eric knew, deep down, that his friends had all done something like this before, but he doubted any of them had to be sedated by a handful of nurses.

He desperately wanted to be like his friends, but the wild and exciting lives they lead all revolved around the fact that they weren't dead.

It occurred to Eric that they were all missing work to be here for him, that they were all there to support him.

"Aw, man, I missed work today. I'm sorry, guys, I'll make it up next week," he promised to Ritch and Valerie, who looked at him like he was crazy.

"Are you still high?" Valerie asked. "We just care that you're alright. Being in the hospital is a pretty good excuse for missing work."

"I feel so stupid," he confessed.

"There's no reason to," Joy comforted him gently. "Look at us, we've all done stupid things like this."

"I bet none of you wound up in the hospital because you were too busy with a girl to notice what type of drugs you were taking."

"Kid, when I was your age, I hitchhiked across the country to go to a rock concert," Ritch reminded him.

"So did I," Valerie chimed in.

"What you did was very, very stupid," Aaron grinned. "But as far as maturity goes, you've still got us beat, no contest."

Eric laughed in spite of himself, and Joy pulled out her polaroid camera from her bag.

"A souvenir from this experience," she explained, snapping a picture of Eric in the bed.

"I think I'm just gonna try and forget this ever happened," Eric said.

Joy nodded in understanding, but grinned. "Then this is going in my photo album."

"So you're really feeling alright?" Valerie asked in concern.

Eric nodded. "So, can I go home now?" Being in the hospital around all of these doctors and nurses made him uncomfortable; they made him think of his mother. He didn't even want to consider her horror if she ever learned that he was in the hospital- and for drug use, no less. And Red's fury would be unyielding- the "cracking down" that occurred after Hyde had been busted with a little bit of weed would be nothing compared to this. Eric resolved to make sure they never found out.

"Let me get a nurse or someone, and we can ask if you're free to go," she said, turning and walking out the room, her husband on her heels.

Now that he was left alone with Aaron and Joy, Eric sighed. "So I think this is the second time you guys saved my life."

"I don't think so, kid," Aaron said. "All we did was take you to the hospital."

"Actually, I took you to the party, so this is indirectly my fault," Joy said. "I should have warned you not to get involved with anyone I don't know personally. Some of the girls can get pretty wild."

"I'm not a kid, I should have known not to-"

"See, but you didn't know. I give you those friggin' pills, tell you they're harmless, then leave you alone at a party where there are dozens of different types of pills that look just like them," Aaron says. "You're still new to this scene, man, and I should have warned you."

"Really, it's okay," Eric insisted. "And trust me, I'll never make that mistake again."

Valerie and Ritch returned. "A doctor's coming to make sure everything's alright, then you can go."

"Thank god," Eric said. "I'm hungry."

…..

The staff at the hospital was very accustomed to dealing with accidental overdoses, and everyone was surprisingly friendly to the teen, despite the condition he had been checked in for. Eric knew that if this had happened in Point Place, the nurses wouldn't have been so understanding.

The doctor released Eric on the grounds that he would take it easy- both in drug use and physical activity. The teen assured the doctor that the whole thing had been an accident, and that he was pretty sure he'd never touch something that strong again.

Physically, he felt okay. His friends accompanied him to a diner for lunch, then they all returned to the record shop to hang out.

However, the mental effects of the trip stuck with the teen.

Even after he laid back in his hotel bed (he had to assure his friends that he was absolutely fine before they let him go home for the night) he wouldn't get to sleep. Actually, he didn't want to sleep, because he knew that nightmares were just waiting to sneak up on his mind, Helter-Skelter style. It would take quite a while to get rid of the mental block his bad trip inflicted on him.

Nevertheless, his eyes did close, and he was lucky enough to slip into a mostly dreamless sleep.

….

It's amazing how the mind can heal itself, even after coming to the brink of chaos. Over the next few days, Eric got over the whole Electric Kool-Aid experience as best as he could. He got nightmares, and thinking too hard on that night sent him into a fretful tailspin, but it stopped affecting his day-to-day life. The reality of his possible death no longer bothered him, since he knew he hadn't been all that close to the end. But during his trip, he had been fairly certain life was over for him, and leftover emotions from that sensation creeped up on him from time to time. Despite that, he didn't fear death the way he had at first. He was all the wiser for the experience, if not all the more weathered and aged. The fact that his life might have been shortened now ensured that he would be much more careful, ironically lengthening his life considerably.

Also, his wrist healed up within the week, and getting back to work at the store took his mind off of the whole thing, and his focus gradually shifted to other concerns.

It was the middle of July, and while school didn't start again until the beginning of September, Eric knew that he was running out of time.

He didn't want to leave Chicago- he desperately wanted to stay and start a real life here with his friends. He saw no reason to return, he would be eighteen soon, and he could tell his parents where he was without the fear of them rushing to the city and dragging him back to Point Place. It was sort of nice to think that they wouldn't have any legal power over him after that. But he knew he would miss them, and if he broke his mother's heart by never returning to Point Place (he wasn't sure that it wouldn't kill her) then he knew there was a good chance he wouldn't be welcome there ever again, even for holidays. But would he even be welcome back there now? With his new hair, new clothes, and new outlook on life, he wasn't so confident that Red would tolerate this grown-up young man living under their roof. And after such a pivotal summer, Eric couldn't handle the mere thought of tolerating his senior year of high school. He was smart, so it would hardly be a matter of passing. But how can you listen to a bunch of middle-aged blowhards teach you about the real world, when most of them had never gone any further from Point Place than Kenosha?

Eric would have been much more willing to return to school if he had teachers like Aaron around.

Still, school was only a small part of his life, and he did miss his mom's cooking, his bedroom, his basement, his friends, and even the Vista Cruiser. One more year really couldn't hurt, right? It's not like Red was intending on keeping him around after graduation. One more year of domesticity, and he was free to do whatever he wanted.

The conflict raged on for days. Did he dare stay for the rest of high school? He was fairly sure he could get in to a local high school in Chicago, provided his friends would help him forge some paperwork. Then, with a high school diploma, he could go on to any college or university in Chicago. His grades were always good- perhaps he could get a scholarship; he knew that if he never returned, there was no way Red and Kitty would help fund his college education.

But even if he did take advantage of this jumpstart, there was a good chance he would never see his friends or family again. Well, that was dramatic, but he knew he wouldn't see them for a long time.

No matter how much thought he put in to it, he couldn't come up with a definitive answer.


	14. Nowhere Man

**A short transition chapter, but still important. Enjoy, guys!**

...

After getting arrested, being dumped, going to a Pink Floyd concert, attending an afterparty, hooking up with a groupie, and being hospitalized from a bad trip all in the span of a few days, Eric decided he needed to take it down a notch.

While some people are drastically changed by even one bad experience with acid, Eric was for the most part able to shake it off. He was more concerned with this turmoil over whether or not he should return to Point Place. He felt as though he wasn't truly ready to stay in Chicago permanently, wasn't ready to start a brand new grown-up life, he also didn't feel like he belonged in Point Place anymore. He was a nowhere man, he didn't belong in any one place for the time being. He was okay with that for now, but he couldn't live this way forever.

His biggest fear about leaving Chicago was that he would go right back to being his old self. Not that there was anything wrong with his old self, but Eric liked the version of himself that he was now: independent, wiser, more mature, even a bit kinder, but still sarcastic and twitchy. Not to mention the fact that the long hair and new clothes (they fit him instead of drowning him!) made him look far more attractive and interesting. Same Eric, just better. Remastered, even.

But he worried that the moment he returned home, he would fall for Donna again, would go back to wearing his baggy clothes, would fear Red, cut his hair, and continue the antics that had taken up so much of his time and patience.

Also, Eric worried that if he went back now, he would be sucked in to the world of Point Place, with no hope of escaping. Sure, he still had no problem with settling down there when he was older….but he couldn't stand the thought of going to the nearest college, returning home, marrying some girl he didn't love, and dragging his feet through some career with the hopes that maybe he could save enough to put his kids through college so that the cycle might repeat itself. If he was going to settle down in Point Place, it would be when he was ready, not when he felt obligated to.

Furthermore, Eric thought that surely his new friends, who were the greatest group of people he'd ever met, would surely forget about him and go on with their lives once they said goodbye. Should he choose to return to Chicago, he didn't want to redo those awkward few days by himself.

On his next day off, almost a week after he checked out of the hospital, the teen went for one of his walks. But this time, instead of pacing the edge of Lake Michigan, he headed back towards the Sears Tower.

He hadn't been in the building since that night when he'd met his new friends. It was daylight this time, but that hardly altered Eric's love for the city as he looked down over it from above. He had fallen in love with Chicago, mostly because it had been surprisingly welcoming to him from the moment he'd arrived. It was a pity that he didn't have the time to really explore it, block by block. But he promised himself that it would happen one day.

Resting his forehead against the window, Eric considered the options in front of him. He was in a wonderful spot for a person of his age. He could buy a car with the money he'd saved up and tour the country. He could move on to the next adventure…New York, perhaps? He could stay here indefinitely, get a real job, and just work his way up the ladder. Eric smiled slightly, seeing himself in a work suit, working in some stuffy office. He wasn't sure exactly what he wanted to do with his life yet, but the more Aaron talked about teaching, the more Eric considered that path. He could work five days a week, and still remain in the city, clubbing with his friends and experiencing the seventies head-on. He was young now and he would be young for quite a few more years- and having weekends and summers off sounded like a perfect way to get by. (The teaching and inspiring of young minds sounded pretty good, too.)

He could go home, face the consequences of his actions, and basically live his last year of high school in a limbo. Returning home wouldn't actually be that horrible. Besides, he knew his friends would want to know what he'd been up to…

Sighing, Eric opened his eyes and stared down at the city again. He was at a crossroads. If he decided to stay, he would have to check out his hotel and work somewhere that would pay him enough to get his own place. He could tell that this little vacation was winding down; if he stayed in Chicago, the real world would begin. That wasn't such a bad thing, but there would be no going back once he committed.

Eric had an idea of what he would end up choosing, but he wanted to talk it over with his friends first. They always gave the best advice. Despite his usual stubborn pride when it came to personal matters, this was too important to screw up.

One more long look, and the young man turned away from the windows. While he wasn't electrified the way he had been the first time he looked out over Chicago, the feeling of excitement and possibility never ceased. Not for one moment.

...

Returning to the record store, Eric was prepared to ask his friends for their opinions on what he should do. Instead, he found Joy and Aaron out front, much in the way they had been when he first met them.

"There you are," Joy smiled. "We tried your hotel room, but you didn't answer."

"Oh, yeah, sorry. I went for a walk. What's going on?"

"Are you up for dinner tonight? Work was boring and I want to do something fun," Joy said. "You can only get so much coffee and file so many papers before you're ready to kill someone."

Eric smiled. "Sure. Are Ritch and Val coming?"

"Yeah, they're changing right now," Aaron said.

Soon enough they were joined by their married friends, and the group of young adults made their way to the nearest restaurant.

The location they chose wasn't all that fancy, but that was a good thing. The food was decent, as were the prices, and everyone had a good time.

"So, do we go home, or continue this night out?" Ritch asked, draping an arm around Valerie as they exited the establishment.

"If we are going to go somewhere, I want to use the restroom here first. It's cleaner," Joy said.

"Good idea," Valerie agreed, following her friend back into the restaurant.

"What about that dance place down the block?" Aaron suggested.

"A club?" Eric asked.

"No, more like slow dancing, mostly." Eric hadn't been out to a nightclub or party since the incident after the concert, and his friends were respectful of that.

"That's great, I'll sit there and drink while you guys dance," the teen said. He didn't mean for that to sound so sarcastic; it actually sounded like a pretty great idea.

"No way, there are always lots of chicks there hoping to get swept off their feet. And not scary girls with pills," Aaron said, earning a laugh from his younger friend.

"Sounds good to me, but is it crowded at this time of night? There might be a wait to get in," Ritch said.

"How 'bout we run over there and check it out, while you wait for the girls? Come on, Eric," Aaron said. "It isn't far. We might get back before they do."

The Wisconsinite followed his musician friend down the sidewalk and matched his brisk pace. When they reached their destination, Aaron looked through the windows of the building.

"Not too crowded," he commented. "No wait to get in. Looks like a good time."

"Then let's get the others," Eric suggested.

"Sounds like a plan."

They turned and walked back the way they came.

"Maybe next week we could-" Eric was saying when a sketchy looking man approached them.

"Hey man, got a light?" the guy asked.

"No, sorry," Aaron said, quickly sidestepping the stranger before the worst could happen.

"That's rude," the guy said, grabbing Aaron's arm and spinning him around. "How bout you give me your wallet to make up for it?"

"Look, man, I don't want any trouble-"

"Too late," the guy snarled, whipping out a large switchblade and holding it up where both young men could see it.

Eric saw the weapon and every joint in his body seemed to lock. A vaguely familiar feeling rose in his chest. It was the same emotion he'd felt when that jerk David insulted Red's intelligence (after he revealed that his father was closing the plant). It was the same feeling he felt when Casey Kelso revealed that he lied about loving Donna…or when Red kicked Hyde out for getting busted for possession. It was the Forman Rage.

Seeing his closest friend being threatened by some lowlife caused the rarest side of Eric to rise to the surface.

"Hey buddy," Eric started, and when the mugger whipped his arm to direct his blade at the younger man, Eric punched him right in the face.

The man fell in a heap, his nose bloody- surely broken.

"Dammit, my nose," he said.

Aaron looked at his friend, incredulous. Then he turned and regarded the moaning man on the ground, who was trying to get up with one hand, holding his face with the other.

"We'd better get out of here."

The two rushed out of the alley and down the street, not stopping until they had put a block in between themselves and their attempted mugger.

Once they were sure they weren't being followed, both young men doubled over, out of breath.

"Th…Thanks, Eric. You really didn't have to…thanks man. I owe you one."

"Let's just call it even," Eric panted. "You've already done the same for me."

"I owe you a beer, at least," Aaron said, straightening up and putting his arm over Eric's shoulder. The two went back in the direction of the restaurant to meet up with the rest of their companions.

"Hey, just trying…to earn my keep," Eric said, still huffing from the unexpected exercise. His dad was right about his athletic ability, that was for sure.

Aaron frowned at the remark. "You do know you don't have to earn your friendship with all of us, right?"

"Yeah," Eric said, uncomfortable. He hadn't meant to take the conversation to this place. "I was just kidding. Though this does make us even from my first mugging."

"Dude, we've gotten you arrested, drugged up, and hospitalized. We were even a while ago."


	15. What Am I Doing Hangin' 'Round?

**What? Three chapters in one day? I must really love you guys! Let me know what you think! :)**

...

After the day's madness, Eric decided that it was best to wait and ask for his friends' advice the following day. So, when he showed up to work at the store the next morning, he was surprised to see the place empty except for his four best friends, all conversing over the check-out counter.

When the bell over the door dinged, announcing Eric's arrival, they little group all whipped around to see him, expectation so clearly on their faces that Eric stopped; they were talking about him, he could tell.

Ritch, Valerie, Aaron, and Joy all came up to the teen, lined up like four parents about to lecture the same kid, and at first Eric thought this was some sort of intervention. However, it wasn't anger or concern on their faces, but amusement.

"We have something for you," Joy said, her hands hiding something behind her back.

"Okay...Not that I'm complaining, but why? You didn't have to…"

Aaron grinned as Joy handed the teen a tiny bundle. Once he unwrapped it, Eric regarded the contents with surprise.

A key sat in the middle of the wrapping, silver and mundane as a nickel.

"Oh wow," Eric said in sarcastic delight. "A key."

"We have one for you too," Valerie said as Ritch handed the second bundle over. This key was a coppery color, but it was also plain and unexciting.

"Please tell me these go to a car and an apartment," Eric said.

"Close," Ritch smirked.

"The silver one goes to our apartment," Aaron said, putting his arm around Joy as she rested her head on his shoulder.

"The other one goes to our flat," Valerie said. "The back door, actually, not the front door to the shop."

"This is great, but why…?" Eric asked again.

"We know you're eventually going to have to go back to Point Place," Joy said. "And we know that you really don't want to leave Chicago. But we also know that you'll be back, probably sooner than later. And when you do, you can use these."

"Hell, you'll probably need a roommate or something while you get your life started," Aaron said. "And it would be nice to split the rent three ways instead of two."

Eric widened his eyes. "You're saying….?"

"We're saying that you are our friend, and that we care about you, and that we want you back whenever you're ready to return to Chicago," Valerie said.

"You're one of us, man," Ritch clarified further. "Just because you're going back to school for a year or two doesn't change that."

Eric was mildly overwhelmed. It looks like the decision had been made for him, and he could not have been happier. So, as it turned out, his friends wouldn't forget him after all. His worries dissipated.

"I mean, I used to go on tour for months at a time with the band," Aaron added. "And Joy's been gone for long stretches, too. This won't be any different."

"You guys are too nice," Eric said, ducking his head and shifting his weight, his hands finding the pockets of his jeans in embarrassment.

"Hey, we're just happy we found someone who will work at the store for cheap," Ritch joked.

"I…thanks," Eric said, not sure how to respond to such open kindness.

"Don't mention it," Aaron said.

"You know, I wasn't ready to go back home," Eric said. "But now, I think I am."

None of them looked surprised. "We knew you'd say that," Joy said.

…

After a long night of alcohol and music spent in the record store (absolutely no drugs, since everyone was still somewhat shaken over their youngest's episode) Eric returned to his hotel room, and started to pack his bags. He wasn't as sad about the whole thing as he originally thought, probably because he knew he would be back very soon. He had already called the concierge in the hotel and requested a list of the best colleges in Illinois. Heck, even if he just decided to drop in for the summer before his freshman year of college... no matter where in the world he ended up attending, Eric had a hunch that he would see his friends again before he started at a university, well over a year away. Joy had even suggested driving up to visit him some weekend in the fall. The idea of his four Chicago friends spending any time in Point Place entertained the teen to no end. He could imagine Red's disdain and Kitty's near-fear at their unpredictable, yet very grounded lifestyles. He could imagine Joy turning down Kelso so smoothly that the dork would think he had a date, and Jackie's jealousy over the girls' clothes. Hyde would love the gang and beg to hitch a ride to Chicago with them.

Even without the four accompanying him, Eric suddenly became very anxious over how he would be received. He knew his parents and friends would be happy to see him, but how would they react to his appearance? As groovy as the girls in Chicago found his long "Nesmith" hair, he wasn't so sure his dad would see the appeal.

Eric filled his backpack with his belongings: his wallet, which had only ten dollars less in it now than it had when he arrived, his map and his pocket knife, as well as a few other personal effects he accumulated over the summer. There were a couple of new records, a pair of aviator sunglasses that he secretly adored, and various other odds and ends. Eric had thrown out his old clothes by the end of June, and he now had enough new clothes that he had to put them in a military-style sack, which he slung over his shoulder. He checked out of the cheap little hotel, realizing he was actually going to miss it. Before walking down to the record store for the last time that summer, the young adult stopped at the bus station to purchase a ticket for the afternoon shuttle out of town. It would take him as far as Madison, Wisconsin, and he intended to hitchhike the rest of the way there.

In the record store, his friends were waiting to say goodbye. Luckily, it was only noon, and Eric's bus didn't leave until three, so they had time to spare. He'd wanted to stay longer, but knew that it was important he get home early in the evening, just after dinner time, while his whole family was still awake.

Joy hugged him first, and he laughed.

"I'm not leaving for another three hours."

"I know, but I can't help it."

"You've got the keys we gave you?" Valerie asked. "Your license, your wallet, your clothes?"

"All here, Mom," he teased, and she couldn't help but hug him too.

"Okay, let's not get too mushy, here," Aaron said. "Or Ritch'll start crying."

Joy just smiled at her boyfriend and went to the counter to retrieve her purse. She pulled a stuffed envelope from the bag, and handed it to Eric.

"What's this?"

"Some of the pictures I took over the past couple months. Don't worry, I kept a few for myself."

The young man smiled as he looked through the thick stack of polaroids. There he was, grinning at the camera as he sorted stacks of albums. There were Valerie and Ritch, holding beers and leaning against each other in some bar or club. The three guys behind bars, in jail. The girls hugging Eric. Aaron attempting to teach Eric how to play the guitar. The sweet photos went on and on, and it was funny to watch Eric's clothes and hair slowly morph into the style he sported now.

"Thanks," he grinned at his friend. "I love them."

"Here," Valerie said, pulling a pen and notepad from one of drawers behind the counter. "Write your address and phone number in Point Place."

"Oh, and make sure you get our numbers too," Joy chimed in.

Aaron and Ritch looked on in amusement as the girls smothered Eric with love.

Eric tucked the photos, and the list of addresses and phone numbers, into his backpack.

Unfortunately, the time went by far too quickly. When it was a quarter to three, Eric and his friends walked down to the bus station together.

People were already starting to board the bus to Madison by the time they arrived, and Eric turned to his older friends, suddenly panicked. Did he want to leave? He wasn't so sure anymore. How was it that he was more afraid to leave Chicago than he had been to run away to Chicago? And why was he really so frightened of Point Place?

Sensing his alarm, Joy immediately moved to hug him again. This time, she didn't break away, but held the embrace.

"You're gonna have a great year," she promised. "And I will come visit you, even if I have to walk there."

"I'll be walking with her," Aaron chimed in.

Eric hugged Joy back as tightly as he could; Joy was the first female friend he'd ever had that he didn't either hate or feel attracted to. Valerie ran a close second, considering she looked out for him, counseled him, and generally treated him better than his sister Laurie ever had. When Joy pulled back and went to stand by Aaron, Valerie stepped forward. Despite her petite frame, she gave a powerful hug.

"We only met you a few months ago," she smiled. "How did this end up happening?"

"You all felt sorry for me, I think."

"Only at first," Ritch smiled, stepping forward to give Eric a short, masculine hug. Aaron quickly followed, crushing Eric in a vice grip.

"Take care of yourself, kid. Don't go too crazy on your eighteenth birthday."

Eric snickered and stepped back.

"Last call for Madison, Wisconsin," a stubby bus driver called out from his seat behind the wheel.

Trying and failing to steady his erratic heartbeat, Eric gave all of his friends one last smile.

"Thanks guys," he said, then turned to board the bus.

"Call us when you get home so that we know you made it okay," Valerie demanded of him, and he smiled. Just when he thought she couldn't sound more like his mother, she outdid herself.

Handing the bus driver his ticket and finding his seat, Eric took in a deep breath. He looked out the window, where his friends caught his eye and waved. He waved back, and the bus pulled out of the station.

…..

The bus was crowded, and Eric had to squeeze himself and his belongings into a seat against the window. Despite his discomfort, he thought only of how he was going to act when he reunited with his family. He rehearsed what he would say and do over and over again in his mind. The teen prepared himself for Kitty's tears, Red's anger, Hyde's questions. He decided it would be best if he told them where he'd gone the moment they asked. There was no point in lying or keeping the reality of his whereabouts a secret- they couldn't stop him once he was home, right? When they asked why, he would tell them a piece of the whole story- he would say that he needed to do something in his life that was exciting, and that he knew they would have come after him had he told them where he was going from the start. It wasn't the whole reason, or even the main reason why he left, but it would do. His parents wouldn't like the answer, but it was plausible, and it was far less harsh than "I wanted to get away from you, and Donna, and my friends, and the entire town because I felt suffocated, and I needed to learn things and do things you have never experienced in your life."

In his preoccupation with his thoughts, it didn't occur to Eric just how different he was since he'd hopped on the bus to the Windy City.

It had taken almost eight hours to get from Point Place to Chicago at the beginning of the summer. This time, it was much easier, since the bus took him halfway to his hometown in just under two hours. It still wasn't as fast as driving, but since it was a direct route to Madison, with no stops, Eric couldn't complain. However, he still had about an hour's worth of driving before he would make it to Point Place, and there were no buses heading to that general area for the evening. The young man really didn't feel like walking or hitchhiking, but it appeared he had no choice.

Luck was on his side. When Eric collected his bags and stepped out of the bus station in Madison, a large Price-Mart delivery truck pulled up to the fueling station. Eric recognized the vehicle in an instant.

"Hey!" he called out, running over to where the truck driver was pulling the gas nozzle from its holder.

"Hey," he said again when he reached the man. "Steve, right?"

The middle-aged man regarded Eric in suspicion. "Do I know you?"

"Well, probably not. But you deliver stuff to the Point Place Price Mart, right?"

"Yeah…"

"I used to be a stock-boy there."

"Okay," Steve said, wondering where on earth Eric was going with this.

"Are you going to Point Place now? Could you give me a ride?"

"Sorry, kid, I'm heading home to Kenosha right now. Not going anywhere near Point Place."

"Kenosha's close enough. Could you drive me there? I'll pay you twenty bucks."

"I guess so," Steve said in hesitation. Eric sighed in relief,

"Thank you."

The drive to Kenosha was mostly quiet; Steve wasn't much of a conversationalist, which was quite alright with the young Forman. When they reached the town's city limits, Steve dropped Eric off at the first bus station and headed home, not giving the kid another thought.

It was almost a quarter-to-six when he stepped out of the Price Mart truck, which was great- he was right on schedule, with no stroll down the highway required. If he'd ended up walking, he most likely wouldn't have arrived in Kenosha for a while longer.

As he opened the door to the station and peeked inside, Eric prayed that there were buses running at this time of day. It was still very early, the sun wasn't setting for another hour at least, so his odds were good. Point Place was still approximately forty minutes while driving, so there was no chance of him walking the whole way there and making it home before Red and Kitty went to sleep.

The girl behind the ticket counter was in no mood for pleasantries.

"Yeah?" she barked as Eric approached her.

"Hi, uh, do you still have any buses to Point Place tonight?"

"We have one leaving in fifteen minutes, and one leaving at eight."

"I'll take a ticket for the one in fifteen minutes, please."

He paid for his ticket, then sat in one of the chairs on the opposite wall, bouncing his foot, trying to quell the doubts that had arisen during his first bus ride of the day.

At seven o'clock, Eric boarded the nearly empty bus. Placing his bags on his lap so that no one would take them, the teenager leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. Given the summer night, and his denim jacket, he felt very warm, but he didn't mind. He intended to wear it when he first saw his parents; it covered his forearms, namely the scar on his arm. The lesion wasn't very noticeable or scary looking, but he didn't want to have to explain it to Kitty his first night home, and she was bound to notice it if it wasn't covered. In the meantime, he hoped to get in a quick nap before he faced his family. Traveling was tiring enough, and he had a feeling that it was gong to be a long night.

Eric opened his eyes when the bus came to a stop, and realized that he'd slept through the entire drive. Combing his hands through his hair, he gathered his belongings and warily stepped off the bus and into Point Place.

He was home.

Eric didn't have much time to feel the gravity of the situation, since he desperately wanted to avoid running into anyone he knew. It wasn't even eight o'clock on a summer night, and his friends, classmates, anyone might see him and recognize him. He figured that the whole town must have heard that he was gone, and Eric really didn't want to have to explain himself to anybody tonight, considering he was about to do a lot of that with his family.

Fortunately, Point Place wasn't a big town, and the walk home would be quick.

….

Eric was surprised by the mix of emotions that hit him when he turned the corner on his street and saw the Forman house -his house- only a few yards away. There was a sense of love, a homesickness that he hadn't felt in weeks, and an ice cold fear. Relief, dread, excitement, anxiety.

From this far away, and from this angle on the street, Eric couldn't tell if anyone was home. Maybe this was a sign from the universe telling him he should go back to Chicago….Eric resolved to go up to the house, but decided that if absolutely no one was home, he was turning around and trying again tomorrow. He'd rather sleep in a motel outside of town than wait in the dark to surprise his parents.

Eric crossed the street so that he wouldn't have to pass the Pinciotti driveway, as running into Bob before he made it home was the absolute worst case scenario Eric could come up with…except, maybe, running into Donna.

He walked down the sidewalk on the opposite side of the street, hoping to high heaven that his friends weren't out in the driveway playing basketball tonight. The teen drew closer to his house, coming to a stop right across the street from his destination.

Well, the light was on, and the Vista Cruiser was in the driveway. However, Eric thought it would be best to enter through the front door, in case his family was in the back having dinner. It would definitely be awkward to walk in while they all had food in their mouths- his parents might choke in their surprise, and the last thing he wanted was to have to resuscitate Red and Kitty before being bombarded with whatever was in store for him inside. No, best to go through the front door.

As he walked further down the pavement and up to the house he'd lived in his entire life, nervousness gripped him once again. It was almost like stage fright. What was wrong with him?! His parents surely wanted to see him, and even if that were not the case, Hyde certainly would.

Suddenly, he wondered if he should ring the bell, or walk right in? He had his house key in his backpack, but he decided he should knock, or ring the bell before he entered the house, so as not to startle his family. A full minute passed as Eric stood on the stoop, considering his next move. Finally, he took a deep breath, calmed his anxiety, and came to a decision.

He rang the doorbell.

...

 **Trust me, folks. This is not the end at all. In fact, this is the end of part two, as I imagined it. (The first part ended with Changes) Tell me what you think!**


	16. Gimme Shelter

Kitty stood up from the kitchen table and took Red and Hyde's plates out from in front of them.

"Okay, who wants brownies?" she asked in her chipper voice. She pulled the brownie pan off of the counter where it was cooling, and proceeded to slice up the confections and put them on a serving plate. Kitty's stress-baking had slowly waned, and stopped altogether once Eric started calling twice a week. That didn't mean she was not constantly thinking of and worrying for her son, but she now placed all of her nervous energy towards awaiting those short conversations. These brownies were a sign that she was in a relatively good mood; for some reason, she felt better than she had since her son first ran away.

As Mrs. Forman placed the full plate on the table, the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Red offered, but Kitty waved him back into his seat.

"No, no, you eat your brownies," she said, before turning and heading for the living room.

The idea that it might have been Eric never even crossed Kitty's mind, which only added to the absolute bombshell that awaited her behind the door.

Putting on her usual smile she wore when greeting guests, Mrs. Forman opened the front door to her house, and the smile immediately fell from her face, replaced by a look of pure shock.

It didn't look like him, that's for sure. This young man had longer hair, and a more mature countenance. He stood up straighter, which made him look taller, and his clothes were somehow different from the outfits she'd ever seen him wear before. This person in front of her even gave off a wiser vibe that was definitely new.

But Kitty Forman noticed absolutely none of this, because there, with his bags by his feet, was Eric. Her son, her baby, her angel.

Eric.

…

Eric had prepared himself for screaming, or something along those lines, so Kitty's momentary freeze threw him off. He smiled slightly, hoping she would blink or something, and said, "Hi, Mom."

Blood started to circulate in Kitty's veins again and she breathed out a single, "Eric," before grabbing him and yanking her son into the house, gripping him to her.

"Hi," he said again, hugging her back, and his mother began her signature, breathless laugh-cry, the likes of which she'd only used in her happiest moments. (When was the last time she'd done this? When she found out she was pregnant with Laurie? Most likely.)

In the kitchen, Red heard the door open, but couldn't hear anything else. After a minute of this quiet, he stood and swung the kitchen door forward.

"Who is it Kitty-" he began, but stopped in his tracks when he saw his wife's crying face buried in the chest of a person who could only be their son.

"Eric!" he exclaimed, rushing across the den to reach them. At this interjection, Hyde's head snapped towards the sound and jumped up from the table.

When Red drew closer to his little family, a momentary dilemma made him pause. Did he immediately start yelling, or did he embrace the fact that he was overjoyed to see his son alive and well? Deep down, the eldest Forman just wanted to hug his prodigal son, but his pride stood in his way. Luckily for him, the expression on Kitty's face told Red that if he even tried to remove their son from her grip, it would not end well for him. So, he stood there awkwardly waiting for them to finish their hug.

Hyde was not far behind Red, and aside from his excitement at seeing Eric, the very first thing he noticed was just how long Forman's hair had gotten. It wasn't down to his shoulders like Kelso's, but it waved over Eric's forehead, giving the illusion of bangs.

He didn't have a chance to comment on this, because Eric ended the embrace and Kitty looked up at him, hiccuping the rest of her sobs away.

"Your hair," she began, using her fingers to brush it away from his face.

"Yeah," he smiled, immediately using his hands to put it back. "I grew it out."

"Forman," Hyde cut in, and Eric pulled his oldest friend to him for a quick hug.

"Hey, Hyde," Eric said, already excited to recount his experiences to Steven.

Turning to his father, Eric was faced with the same problem his father was. The teen was fairly sure that if he moved to hug his dad, that Red would kill him. What did he say, that he was sorry?

"So…I guess I'm in trouble, huh?" he said.

What a stupid thing to ask. What better window could he have given Red for an ass-kicking than that? Realizing his mistake, Eric stiffened, waiting for retaliation, but Kitty didn't give Red a chance to speak just yet.

"You're grounded for forever," she said, her voice muffled as she hugged him again.

"Kitty," Red said, and his wife pulled away. The Forman parents really weren't in the mood to yell at the son they hadn't seen in months, but they had to. It was their way.

"Kitchen," Red commanded, and Eric nodded. However, the defeated slump that always affected the teen when he was in trouble didn't reach his shoulders this time. No one really noticed this except for Red. There was no fear or resignation in his son's eyes, but expectation. Mr. Forman was not quite sure how he felt about that.

Hyde clapped his hand on Eric's shoulder, which was an invitation to meet him in the basement whenever this lecture was through. (Of course, it was also encouragement, since everyone knew what was about to happen.) Then, Hyde withdrew to his basement. But instead of turning on the TV, Steven sat on the top stair, leaning against the door to the kitchen so that he might listen in on the Formans' conversation.

Eric's parents followed their son into the kitchen, where Eric dragged a chair from the table and placed it in the middle of the room. The teen sat and took a deep breath.

Kitty and Red lined up in front of him, and the kind of stillness that preceded a gunshot seemed to settle over the room.

Mrs. Forman opened her mouth to speak, but Red narrowed his eyes and stopped her. Going over to the basement door, he swung it open and Steven spilled onto the ground with a huff. Looking up at Red, who said nothing, he nodded by way of apology and went back down the stairs. The head of the Forman house shut the door and returned back to where his wife was standing.

Before they began, Kitty cleared her throat and calmly asked, "Where were you?"

"I, uh, I went to Chicago," Eric said, with all of the confidence he could muster.

It was like an atomic bomb went off in the kitchen. Truly, as abruptly as a nuclear reaction, Red and Kitty's months of worry, sadness, and anger channeled themselves into a hailstorm of shouting and ranting like Eric had never experienced before. Insults were flung at him, and language was used that he never would have expected of Kitty (Red was no surprise at all, but Kitty's vulgarities and obscenities were all the more potent because of how surprising they were.)

The fact that he'd gone to Chicago, a dangerous metropolitan city, only incensed their rage. All of their questions were rhetorical, which was a good thing, because Eric knew they didn't want to know the answers to "what did you possibly do there?" and "please tell me you didn't get involved with drugs," and the like.

The youngest Forman's ears were actually ringing by the halfway point of their lecture.

"Why didn't you tell us?" Red asked, and the silence after startled Eric as he realized they both expected him to answer this one.

"Because I knew you would come after me or call the police to come get me," the teen answered, pleased with the fact that his voice did not quiver.

"You're DAMN RIGHT WE WOULD!" Red and Kitty roared at the same time, which would have been funny if it weren't so scary.

Then, they switched gears and zeroed in on his appearance.

Red's comments were more along the lines of "Look at your hair!" and "You look like a hippie," while Kitty focused more on the fact that "You look like you haven't eaten in weeks!"

It was, without a doubt, the ass-kicking of the century, both impressive in its length (they must have shouted for an hour), and its sheer force (volume and intensity). Eric learned an important lesson that night: no matter what you person do or how grown up you become, you're never too old or mature to be afraid of your parents.

Yet the entire lecture, while packing a punch, didn't hurt Eric's feelings, or make him feel bad about himself, or strike fear into his heart. Instead, he looked back at his parents and realized just how much he loved them and missed them. Even more, it comforted him to know just how strongly his actions affected them. As he sat there and listened to his parents call him "dumbass," for what was the sixtieth time that night, Eric had never felt more loved.

Somewhere around the hour mark, the lecture came to a close. Whether that was because the Formans' voices were giving out or because there are only so many ways to creatively insult someone was a mystery. Eric was once again put on the spot when Red asked him, "What in god's name would possess you to run away, and to Chicago! What do you possibly have to say for yourself?"

What to say? Trying to explain his actual reasons would only come out jumbled and confused, and they wouldn't understand what he was saying. Eric took a deep breath and spoke, not exactly answering the questions, but with a statement that would do the trick, for now at least.

"Look, I really am sorry for scaring you guys, and for running off like that. I can't explain it in any way that won't make you mad, but I promise I won't run away again. I mean, obviously after high school I'll move out or something, but I won't leave Point Place until then."

So that they wouldn't have a chance to get angry, he continued with, "I'm grounded, right?"

Now that the rant was over, Kitty took a deep breath, and her eyes grew all misty once more. "We'll talk about it tomorrow," she said, and when Eric stood she grabbed him and hugged him again.

"We love you," she said.

"I love you too."

The teen put his hands in his pockets and went to go talk to Hyde, but before he made it there, Red wrapped up the past hour by threatening, "If you ever do something so stupid again, I will put my foot so far up your ass that every time you breathe you'll smell the leather from my shoe."

"Yes, sir," Eric nodded, then turned and quickly flew down the stairs before they could add anything else.

When he was gone, Kitty smiled up at her husband, who pulled her close, a small smile on his own face.

"Thank god."

…...

Hyde muted the TV when Eric came down the stairs and sat next to him on the couch.

"I might actually be sore tomorrow from that lecture," Eric said.

"I'm surprised they didn't kill you," Hyde said, tossing the remote onto the table and shifting so that he faced his friend. "Tell me man, how was Chicago?"

"Oh, it was incredible," Eric began, leaning back and staring at the ceiling. With a little prodding from Steven, Eric told him the whole story, starting with his first day, his mugging, meeting his new friends, the nightclubs, the women, getting arrested, Pink Floyd….but, the young Forman was careful to leave out the drugs, or the entire night after the concert. He also left out how much he wanted to return to Chicago after they graduated high school. Those things were too personal; he didn't want to freak Hyde out.

Hyde relished every bit of Eric's detailed odyssey, asking questions and shaking his head at the life his most docile friend had led over the past few months.

"I wish I'd gone with you," Steven said. "Which reminds me," he finished by punching Eric in the arm.

"Ow!"

"That's for ditching me and running off to Chicago."

"Yeah, sorry about that," Eric said. "I really wanted to tell you where I was going…but thanks for not telling my parents."

"Yeah, yeah. Sure thing, Opie," he deadpanned.

"Opie" didn't seem like such a fitting nickname any more. Eric looked far too grown up for that. He was still seventeen, of course, and that innocent look hadn't left his eyes, but his usual "deer in headlights" look was gone. Of course, Hyde wasn't going to say any of that. Instead, he went with, "Your hair looks cool."

"Thanks," Eric said, absently running his fingers through it to catch any loose strands. "I like it a lot."

"What's with the coat?"

"Oh, yeah," the teen took of his denim jacket, and the scar along his forearm was promptly revealed to his friend.

"Woah, what happened?"

"That mugger I told you about nicked me with his knife. It's not as bad as it looks."

Hyde doubted that very much, but let it go. He leaned forward to grab the remote again so that he might turn on Saturday Night Live, but before he restored sound back to the TV, Eric blurted out, "I missed you guys."

"You, too, Forman."

They went quiet when they heard the door to the kitchen open. Kitty appeared, her plate of brownies in hand.

"Here you go," she said, giving putting the dish on the table in front of them, and giving Hyde a kiss on the head, then squashing Eric with another colossal hug.

"Thanks mom," and "Thanks Mrs. Forman," were answered with "You're welcome," before Kitty went back upstairs.

"Just wait till everyone else sees you," Hyde said. "Kelso told everyone you went to L.A. to do the Charlie's Angels."

Eric laughed, but frowned when he thought about who "everyone else" included.

"How's Donna doing?" he asked.

"She's alright. She took you leaving pretty hard, though."

"Really?" Eric asked, surprised. "Huh."

"You're not still hung up on her, are you?" Hyde demanded.

"No."

The conviction in Eric's voice surprised Steven, but he let that go as well.

"You're gonna be grounded for the rest of your life," Hyde said.

Eric grinned. "After Chicago, Point Place is punishment enough."


	17. Pleasant Valley Sunday

The following day was a Sunday, and despite it being the Lord's Day, or perhaps because of it, Red served up a punishment of biblical proportions.

"No car unless I specifically give you permission," he said, taking Eric's car key from his key ring (which was now sporting two new additions; one silver and one copper).

"Yes, sir."

"And you're grounded until school starts. No leaving the neighborhood unless your mother or I say it's okay."

Eric nodded. That was going to be a pain, but most of the time, the gang just hung around the Forman basement anyway.

Neither Hyde nor Eric bothered to call Jackie, Kelso, Donna or Fez, knowing they'd come over anyway. None of them knew Eric had returned to Point Place, but they would soon enough.

In the meantime, Eric settled back into his room and unbacked his bags. He retrieved his list of phone numbers from the front pocket of his backpack and headed down to the kitchen to place a call.

It rang only once before a feminine voice answered, **"Hello?"**

"Hey, Joy."

 **"Eric!"** she cried out, and the teen could hear other voices in the background. **"Did you make it home alright?"**

"Yeah, sorry I didn't call last night, it was sort of crazy over here."

 **"Hey, man,"** Aaron's voice came over a second phone.

"Didn't I call Valerie and Ritch's place?" Eric joked, knowing full well that they would all be over in the married couple's apartment on a lazy Sunday like today.

 **"You must have, 'cause our place only has one line."**

 **"So were your parents pissed?"** Ritch's voice asked, as the older man wrestled his phone away from Aaron. The two men leaned in so that they could hear Eric talk. Joy and Valerie listened in on the other phone, which was downstairs in back room of the record store.

"That doesn't even begin to describe it. The only reason I'm able to call you guys is because my mom's at the store and my dad's in the garage."

 **"It's just their way of showing love,"** Valerie said.

 **"Tough love,"** Ritch agreed.

 **"Hell, if I went back home my parents would ground me,"** Aaron laughed.

 **"So are you as miserable as you thought you would be?"** Joy asked.

Eric responded with, "I haven't been back a whole day yet," but quickly amended his statement.

"No, it's not that bad. Just wait 'till school starts, though."

 **"I told, you, we're going to visit some time this year. It'll make things less boring."**

 **"Just remember, none of your teachers will ever be as cool as me,"** Aaron said in mock seriousness.

 **"Trust me, there's no question."**

Suddenly, the sound of the Vista Cruiser could be heard pulling into the driveway.

"Crap, I gotta go," Eric said in a panic, knowing that while Kitty would let a phone call slide, Red would not. And if Kitty had groceries, Red would be helping her bring them in.

 **"Okay, take care of yourself, kid,"** Ritch said.

 **"Call us again soon,"** Joy commanded.

"I will."

 **"Good luck with your parents,"** Aaron signed off.

"Thanks."

 **"And Eric,"** Valerie said, keeping her point short and sweet. **"Talk to Donna. Closure, remember?"**

The teen wanted to avoid the question, but he heard the car door close, and knew he was out of time.

"Okay. Bye Val."

He quickly hung up the phone and rushed down to the basement before his parents were even in the house.

...

Some time after lunch, Eric and Hyde were in the basement watching TV; Eric on the couch, Steven in his chair. The curly-haired teen had been asking his friend for more details on the Pink Floyd concert when the basement door opened and Jackie, Fez, and Kelso appeared.

"Hello Hyde, do you want to-" Fez was beginning when a loud, high pitched screech filled the basement.

Jackie, having entered the basement last, thought it was Fez who had made the sound, and Fez looked at Jackie, thinking she was the culprit. But no, it was in fact Michael Kelso who had screamed. The two other newcomers were at first too distracted by Kelso's girlish shriek to notice Eric sitting on the couch, but the tall young man was staring in delight and awe at Eric, who grinned and waved, then stood.

"Hey guys-" he said, but the words and wind were knocked out of him when Kelso tackled him in a bear hug. They fell to the couch, and Michael released his skinny friend.

"Eric!" Fez exclaimed at the same time that Jackie said, "Oh my god, Eric?"

"Yeah, it's me," Eric smiled, as Fez too hugged him in excitement.

"Where've you been, man?"

"I was in Chicago."

"No way!" Michael shouted in excitement.

"Yeah, but thanks for telling everyone I was out banging the Charlie's Angels."

"Hey, anything for a friend," Kelso said sincerely, smiling his goofy smile.

"So what did you do in Chicago?" Fez asked, and everyone sat.

Eric again told his story, carefully leaving out the drugs and sex.

Jackie inquired after the clothes, Kelso asked about the chicks, and Fez wanted to know about the clubs and the dancing.

"Man, that is so cool," Kelso said.

"Yeah, Eric, I never would have thought you'd do something like that. You're usually so…boring."

This was one of Jackie's signature compliments; the type she truly meant as praise, but which ended up as an insult.

Eric stared at her for a moment, then said, "I missed you, Jackie."

She brightened up. "Really?"

"So have you seen Donna yet?" Fez asked.

"No, not yet."

"Well she might not even recognize you. I mean your hair has really improved. Your clothes, too." Another stellar compliment from Jackie.

"So are your parents really mad?" Kelso asked.

"Mad? Do you remember how my dad was after Hyde got busted? This makes that look like a church picnic."

Nobody asked him why he actually decided to run away to Chicago, and for that Eric was grateful. He had been worried about how his parents would understand; he couldn't imaging trying to explain to Jackie or Fez, much less Kelso.

"Well, can we play basketball?" Michael asked.

A few minutes later, the four boys were in the driveway, Jackie leaning against the car filing her nails. Soon enough, she grew tired of this and went inside to talk Kitty's ear off.

After an hour into their game, which had broken down into a round of HORSE, the basketball got away from the guys and rolled down the driveway.

"I'll get it," Eric said, jogging after the ball.

At the same time, Donna was going down her own drive to take out the trash. Because of the bushes that bordered the Forman's property, the two teenagers didn't see each other until it was too late.

Eric bent down to pick up the ball when a pair of shoes came into his line of sight. Looking up to determine their owner, Eric's heart leapt when he saw that it was Donna.

"Eric!" she said in surprise. "Oh my god."

"Hey Donna," Eric said sheepishly, straightening up but forgetting the basketball on the ground.

"Oh my god," she said again, hugging him in excitement. It occurred to her that this hug might be awkward, considering the way that they'd parted the last time, and she immediately pulled back and looked Eric up and down.

"Your hair…" she smiled, and he self-consciously ran his fingers through it.

"Yeah…" he grinned. "I've been getting that a lot."

"Wait, how long have you been back?"

"Oh I got back last night."

"Cool," she said, trying to sound nonchalant. In truth, it would have hurt her if he'd been back for a few days and hadn't come to see her. "Where were you?"

"Chicago."

This stunned the redhead immensely. She'd assumed Eric was just a couple of towns over, or at the beach or something like that. But Chicago? That was unexpected of the mild and unassuming Eric. At a loss for words, Donna just shook her head.

"Wow. So'd you like meet any rock stars?"

"No but I did meet someone who knew a bunch of rockstars."

He didn't feel right saying Joy's name to Donna, even though it shouldn't have mattered in the slightest. He was just friends with Joy, and what's more, as he studied Donna, Eric realized that he felt very little for her. Of course, this was a good friend standing in front of him, and he still cared for her, loved her even, but with a hint of satisfaction, Eric realized that he wasn't pining after her- that seeing her didn't hurt anymore.

However, it was incredibly awkward. They stood there, nodding like a bunch of dorks, as the rest of their friends watched on from a distance.

"You, uh…" Eric coughed. "You look great."

"Thanks, you really look great too," she said. And she meant it. Eric looked like a movie star. She didn't know why there was a different look in his eyes, or why he had a scar up his arm, but she did know that he looked handsome and young and still very grown up.

"Eric, Steven, dinner!" Kitty called from the sliding glass door.

"I gotta go," Eric said, awkwardly bending down to finally retrieve the basketball. This reminded Donna that she'd put the trash bag on the ground, and she picked it up and put it in the bin.

"Yeah, right. My dad's probably got dinner ready too, so…"

"I'll see you around?" Eric asked, hoping that their last conversation would smooth over if they started hanging out again.

"Definitely."

With a little smile, Eric turned towards his house. Jackie outside, having missed the whole exchange.

"I have to go home for dinner."

"I will walk you home," Fez volunteered.

"I'll go with you guys," Michael said enthusiastically. Even though he and Jackie were currently broken up, he was eager to get back on her good side.

As the three bid their friends goodnight and left the driveway, Donna waited to talk to them.

"Oh my god, Donna, did you see Eric?" Jackie asked, unaware of just how uncomfortable the last few minutes had been.

"Yeah."

"He looks so different," Jackie said, practically gushing. Despite the fact that she and Eric rarely got along in the past, the cheerleader always approved when one of her friends got even marginally better looking or more stylish.

"He seems different, too," Fez said, always able to hone in on what everyone else didn't notice.

"You're just imagining things, Fez," Kelso said.

"No, Michael, he's totally right. Did you notice it, Donna?"

"Yeah…" the young woman answered, before bidding her friends goodnight and walking back up to her house.

...

A hearty meal of mashed potatoes, meatloaf and corn-on-the-cob awaited the boys when they came in. Kitty wasn't going to be satisfied until Eric had eaten several full meals, despite his promise that he had eaten just fine in Chicago.

"How is that?" Red asked skeptically as he took a bite of meatloaf.

"What?"

"How could you afford food the entire time you were in Chicago?"

"I got a job," Eric said simply, realizing his parents were completely unaware of how he'd survived away from home. This annoyed him just a little- did they think he was completely helpless? But he didn't let it show.

"What kind of job?" Red asked.

"I worked at a record store."

"Well isn't that nice," Kitty tried to shift the topic, as she really didn't want to think about her son growing up and getting a job outside of Point Place, even now that he was back.

"Where did you stay?" Red continued to interrogate.

"In a Holiday-Inn. It was cheap but still safe." He added that last part for his mother's benefit.

Mr. Forman studied his son while they ate. He wouldn't admit it, but the fact that Eric was able to keep himself afloat for a couple of months alone was rather impressive. Eric still may not have been able to parachute onto a desert island and survive, but this little stint of independence was a good start. Of course, he could under no circumstances reveal his appreciation, so he instead said, "You know, I had to give away your job. Lot of kids were looking for summer work."

Eric wasn't sure how he felt about that. He would need a new job eventually, but he couldn't imagine going back to Price-Mart after working at the record store anyway.

Kitty once again attempted to change the subject.

"I made chocolate cake for dessert tonight," she said, giving Hyde a look that demanded he help before an argument broke out.

"Thanks, Mrs. Forman," Hyde said, grasping at straws. In his defense, 'I made chocolate cake' was not a lot of material to improvise on.

"After dinner I thought we might all watch some TV," Kitty said, giving Red a look that said the conversation was closed.

...

Much later that night, when the Forman parents were in bed, Kitty snuggled up to Red and quietly said. "Please don't fight with Eric this time. He ran off once, he could do it again."

"Kitty, he didn't leave because of us," her husband assured her.

"What makes you say that?"

"Well, he called you twice a week so that you wouldn't worry, for one thing. And the fact that he came back. If he had a big enough problem with you and me that he would go all the way to Chicago, he wouldn't have come back."

"So why did he go?" Kitty asked, putting her head on his shoulder as they stared up at the ceiling.

"I don't know," Red said in full honesty.

A moment of quiet passed between them before Kitty asked, "Does he seem different to you?"

"Yes," Mr. Forman admitted.

"And his hair is so long," she added, even though it was really only a couple inches longer than it had been. They both laughed a little.

"I'll take him to the barber some time this week," Red said.

Kitty didn't say anything, knowing that the trip to the barber was a fight waiting to happen.


	18. Do I Have to Do this All Over Again?

**Hey y'all! Sorry for making you wait for this chapter. College life is unpredictable and I haven't gotten a chance to write in a while! But we're almost finished with this story! Let me know what you think.**

...

 _Later that week..._

Eric and Hyde had spent the last few days hanging out in the basement with the gang, just watching tv and enjoying their time off of school. Kelso, Fez, and Jackie had all come by several times to hang out, and even Donna had popped in every once in a while. However, it was always awkward between her and Eric, and they were never alone long enough to talk about everything that had happened over the past few months. The young Forman had resolved to go over to her house at some point in the next few days, but was struggling to find a good opportunity given the fact that Red and Kitty had him on a very short leash.

Since Eric was no longer working at Price Mart, Red went to work alone each day, which not only gave Eric more time to hang out with his friends, it also gave Red more time to himself. The quiet commute to the store, despite its brevity, was Red's time to go over what he needed to do each day, at work and at home.

They had not yet discussed new job options for Eric. At the moment, Price Mart wasn't hiring, so the youngest Forman would have to look elsewhere for employment. He'd only been back a few days, and even Red didn't think he had to look for a job right away (he was only in high school, after all). Also, since he was grounded indefinitely, the teen wasn't going to need a steady income- where would he be spending it?

Anyway, the time in the car was when Red went over his daily "To Do" list. After work, he had to fix the garage door again. Kitty had asked him to repair the gutters over the front door. The grass needed to be mowed, but he would just get Eric to do that….and that reminded him: he'd planned to take his son to the barber to get a haircut. The place closed at 7, and he got off of work at 5, so they would have plenty of time.

After a long but uneventful work day, Red got back into his car and made the trip home. The elder Forman was tired, but satisfied. He liked a productive work day, wherever it may be. Even though he wasn't living out the American dream he'd been promised as a boy, with the great career, the big house and the loving family. Well, he did have the house and the family, though his children were certainly not the archetypes he'd imagined they would be. Which reminded him once again that he had just enough time to get Eric that haircut before the barbershop closed.

The heavenly smell of frying chicken met his nostrils as he slid back the kitchen door. Kitty was still obsessing over how thin Eric appeared. Despite Red and Eric's protests that the young man was the same weight he had been before Chicago, the motherly woman was not satisfied. Red did notice that the boy was looking rather lean, but he had always been that way.

"Hi Kitty," he greeted his wife.

"Hi honey, how was work?"

"Oh, it was fine. Is Eric home?"

"He's watching TV with Steven. Why?"

"I was going to take him to the barber today."

Kitty looked up from her cooking warily, but Red didn't notice her trepidation.

"What time will dinner be ready?"

"Not for another hour or so."

"We should be back by then," he said, giving her a peck on the cheek and continuing on to the living room.

"Hey, Eric," he said. Both teens looked up.

"Yeah, Dad?"

"Come on, let's go."

"Sure," Eric agreed, quickly hopping up and following his father out the door. Normally, he'd question their destination or take his time, but he was on incredibly thin ice with his parents and he knew this. Anything to win back their patience and trust, he would do.

"So, where're we going?" Eric asked as they closed their car doors and buckled up.

"To the barber. Thought you could use a good haircut. My treat."

Eric's expression dropped into a frown. "Wait, what?"

"A haircut. I figured since you didn't have a job, I'd buy it for you," Red offered again, still in good spirits.

Eric looked at his dad in confusion. They hadn't discussed getting his hair cut; this seemed very out of the blue. Well, that isn't entirely true, Red had been on about Eric's hair since he was twelve. And now that it was grown out even the slightest bit more, his father wanted it cut.

"Actually, Dad, no thanks," Eric said as cautiously and as politely as he could.

The car came up to a red light, and in his surprise, Red stepped on the brake a little too hard, causing Eric to lurch against his seatbelt.

"No?" Red asked incredulously. Was his son actually saying no to him?

"Yeah…I was gonna keep my hair the way it is. I sort of like it."

Eric knew he was crossing into dangerous waters by refusing a nice gesture from his father. In fact, this was a dance with death that he never would have made before. But he had grown fond of his new look -clothes, hair, and all- and he had no intention of changing it back to the way it was before.

Red turned in his seat to face his son. "You're turning down a free haircut?"

"It's not that…I mean, I do appreciate it, but I don't want to change…my hair."

Eric drew in a breath and steeled himself against what was about to happen. It felt as though all of the air had been sucked out of the car; there was a dry tension, a silence. The hair on the back of Eric's neck stood on end, as he sensed the proverbial lightning storm about to strike.

"But you look like a hippie!" Red argued.

"Dad, I don't look like a hippie. My hair isn't that different."

"Then why does it matter if you keep it like that?"

"Well...I could ask you the same thing!"

That was a horrible mistake. It was one thing to disagree with Red, it was another to talk back to him. The pressure was building in the car. It was no longer an impending lightning storm, but a tornado about to break.

The anger -the absolute rage- on Red's face was incredible. It would have been enough to stop Eric's heart, but the teen was so frightened that he continued to babble, and he found that he couldn't stop.

"My hair doesn't look bad, Dad. I like it, and I'm not going to cut it. I don't know why everyone cares about it...It doesn't look all that different, anyway, so I don't see what the big deal is. I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want it."

His delivery was hackneyed and awkward, and Eric knew it. But he continued to talk.

Why was this stupid thing so important? At first glance, it wasn't. What did Red care if Eric's hair was just a couple inches longer and slightly thicker? What did Eric care if his father wanted the hair a couple inches shorter and thinner? If any outsider tried to understand this conflict, it would look absolutely ridiculous. But there was a power struggle at play here; one that even Red and Eric didn't realize.

Red, who had always prided himself on running a tight ship when it came to family, hated the thought of losing influence over his son. It sounded bad, but most parents have that fear of their children "outgrowing" them. For example, Kitty had become depressed when Eric and Donna accidentally revealed their sex life to the world; her sadness came from the worry that her son might not need her anymore.

Red had been raised in a household where the ultimate show of respect was obedience. It was for this reason that he'd gone crazy when Hyde had been busted for possession. It was a stress reaction- the more he felt that control over his kids was slipping away, the more he tightened his grip. It hadn't worked when he'd nailed Eric's window shut all that time ago, and it wasn't working now. He could feel his son becoming more independent and strong-willed. Ultimately, that's what Red wanted for Eric, but he'd expected to keep some of the teen's respect. While Eric definitely respected his father, Red had a hard time seeing that in the midst of this disobedience. It wasn't about hair, it was about respect.

Meanwhile, Eric was completely focused on maintaining the identity he'd worked so hard to build for himself in Chicago. His greatest fear was that he would revert right back to the way he had been before he'd left Point Place. He didn't want to bend to the will of his parents or his friends anymore- he always ended up sacrificing his own happiness in the process. If he cut his hair against his own wishes, he would be going backwards. He refused to fear his father anymore- it wasn't about hair, it was about self-respect.

Red glared at Eric. "You're cutting your hair."

"No, I'm not."

After a beat of silence, Red shifted gears in the Vista Cruiser and swung the car around, back towards the Forman house. He was very angry, but he wasn't going to fight with his son until the car was parked.

…

Kitty heard the Vista Cruiser pull into the driveway and the screech of tires as Red angrily halted the car. Her stomach twisted- they'd only left five minutes ago, and were back already... which meant that things were about to get very unpleasant in the Forman house.

She put down her cooking utensils and quickly rushed into the living room, hoping to get Steven into the basement before the fight of the year could occur.

"Steven, would you-" she was interrupted when the kitchen door slid back with a bang.

Eric shoved his way into the living room, Red on his heels. They wore identical expressions of anger and frustration- never before had Kitty seen her son look so much like his father.

"So, the barbershop was closed?" Kitty asked, hoping to god that the answer was yes.

Hyde looked up from the couch and raised his eyebrows. He knew he should probably leave the room and let the Formans fight in privacy, but he wanted to find out what was going on.

"No, this dumbass refused to get his hair cut!" Red yelled.

"Why does it matter to you?" Eric asked loudly, not quite bold enough to shout back at his father.

"What matters to me is that you obey an order when I give it to you!"

"We're not in the army. 'Because you say so,' isn't a good reason to do anything," Eric snapped back. Both Kitty and Hyde looked at the teen in surprise- when he was upset, Eric was often reduced to incoherent expressions of anger. He'd never been this comfortable during a fight with anyone, much less Red.

"It was a good enough reason before you ran off to Chicago!" Mr. Forman raged.

There was an uncomfortable silence. Hyde weighed the pros and cons of getting up and leaving, but decided he was more interested than uncomfortable.

This was the epitome of freudian slips. The thing everyone had been thinking for the past week was now out in the open.

Eric's eyes widened as he looked around the room and saw that Kitty and Hyde had both been thinking similar things. His head titled back in his frustration, and his eyes closed for a moment before he snapped back to reality. Could this possibly be happening?

"Ok, my whole life you've told me to be a man, and to stand up for myself. Now that I'm doing that, you get angry!"

"It's not that, dear," Kitty cut in gently. "You've just been acting a bit different since you got back, and we're a little confused."

"Acting different? He's been acting like a dumbass," Red said.

"Well you know what? I'm glad I've been acting different! That was the whole point!"

Another revelation. Of course, this was followed by another beat of awkward silence as Red and Kitty (and to a lesser extent, Hyde) took this in.

Eric was on a roll, so he kept going.

"You wanna know why I really went to Chicago? Because I couldn't stand to be in Point Place anymore. I was mad and tired and I hated it here and I hated myself. It was my fault that Donna and I broke up, my fault that we weren't together, my fault that you guys thought I was weak and a dumbass. I wanted to change all the things I hated about myself, and I wanted to learn what's going on outside of this place. Dad, you were always telling me I needed to shape up and be an adult, and I wanted to see what that meant, because I knew if I stayed here for the rest of my life I'd never know. I wanted to change, and I wasn't going to do that if I stuck around here, because as much as you guys talk about how I need to grow up, the moment I do, you freak out. And I know that running off without telling you guys where I was going was stupid and immature, and I really am sorry for that, but I'm not sorry for going to Chicago. Yeah, I changed a little bit, but I'm the same person, just a little happier and smarter. I look a little different, but I like the way I look. I love you guys, but I can't go back to letting you push me around. I'd never forgive myself. And I don't know why that bothers you so much. I thought that's what you wanted."

At the end of his rant, he glanced back and forth between Red and Kitty, who were both shocked by this new load of information. Taking their stunned silence for a lack of understanding, Eric sighed, feeling beaten.

"You know what? Forget it."

He turned and stormed into the kitchen, past the frying chicken, (which was dangerously close to burning), and out the back door.

Despite her clouded emotions, Kitty had a stroke of panic that Eric might be running away again, and with a worried look, turned to Steven. Understanding her trepidation, the curly-haired teen gave the slightest of nods and went after his best friend.

Eric had only made it to the end of the driveway when Hyde caught up with him.

"Hyde, I'm sorry man, I didn't mean to put you in the middle of that. You know I didn't mean you when I was yelling, just my parents-"

"No, I get it, Forman," Hyde assured him gruffly. If he was being totally honest, Steven was in awe of Eric's little speech. He'd felt that way about Point Place for years, and was always so vocal about it. Everyone else in their little group always just shook their heads and smiled, because that need for escape and freedom was just a part of who Hyde was. If anyone truly understood that need, Steven would have guessed it would be Donna. Eric always seemed so content, he never let on just how miserable he was before Chicago. The big difference was, where Hyde had always wanted to get away, it had always been to get out of Point Place, plain and simple. Apparently, Eric had gone not just because of Point Place, but because of his own personality.

"So where're we going?" Hyde asked.

"I was just going to go to Kelso's…"

"What, no late night trip to New York?"

Eric grinned ever so slightly, but kept his eyes on the sidewalk. "You can't run away twice in one summer. It makes it less special."

Hyde followed his friend to the Kelso residence and stood quietly as Eric rang the doorbell.

Luckily it was Michael who answered the door, and not one of his many siblings.

"Hey guys, what's up?"

Eric opened his mouth to speak, but Steven cut him off.

"We're going out. Come on."

"Are we going to Chicago?" Kelso asked giddily.

"No you idiot, we're going to a bar," Hyde said.

"Wait, Hyde-"

"No, Forman, I am not sitting around here all night. Come on."

"Alright," Kelso whooped, then turned back into his house and shouted, "I'M GOING OUT WITH ERIC AND HYDE," before shutting the door behind him.

"Let's get Fez on the way there."

Always happy to go out with the guys, Fez immediately accepted. Within thirty minutes, the four of them were sitting around a wooden table in some dive at the edge of town.

Hyde and Eric explained the quarrel with Red, and Fez and Kelso listened raptly. No one stood up to Red. Nobody. The fact that Eric had been the one to break that record was even more impressive.

Approximately an hour after arriving, Kelso spotted a cute girl leaning up against the edge of the bar. Her long legs, clad in an immorally tight pair of jeans, allured Michael up out of his chair and over to where she stood.

"Hey," he grinned, putting his hands in his back pockets.

The girl looked him up and down, and raised one eyebrow in amusement. Fez, Hyde, and Eric watched on with the same enjoyment.

"Hi," she smiled. Before the teen could try to flirt with her, she said, "Look, you're really cute, but I have a boyfriend. He's in the bathroom right now."

"Oh, ok. Sorry," Kelso said, backing up, and backing straight into a burly man. The stranger, who was clearly intoxicated, had just picked up a fresh beer from the bar, and Kelso's impact caused him to spill the drink down his front and all over himself.

"Hey!"

"Woah, hey, I'm sorry dude," Kelso said, backing up. The dimwitted teen started to wipe off the beer with his hands, which proved very ineffective. The drunk man, irritated that this strange guy was feeling him up, shoved Kelso backwards. The lanky teen stumbled back against the barstools and almost feel over. His three friends rose from their table in worry, prepared to intervene.

"It was an accident, man," Hyde stepped in. "Why don't you just lay off."

"i don't think so, buddy," the drunken man said, getting all up in Hyde's face and shoving him back, ready to start a brawl.

Eric, very sick of fights, tried to diffuse the situation.

"Look, we don't want any trouble."

The drunken man, not listening, swung. Hyde winced, bracing himself even though it was Eric who was about to be hit. However, Eric ducked, expertly avoiding the punch.

Since the fist didn't find it's mark, the man's equilibrium was thrown off, and he stumbled forward, hitting his head on a barstool on the way down. He fell to the ground, momentarily stunned. In fact, everyone involved seemed to be stunned. Hyde looked at Eric and couldn't miss the look in his friend's eyes. It was a blend of resignation and regret: a very innocuous look, as it he wouldn't be Eric without that touch of innocence. But it was clear from his set jaw that Eric had done this before.

Once the silence broke, the four teens tore out of the bar before the whole thing could escalate any further.

...

Kitty sat on the couch, running the recent argument through her mind over and over again. She was alone, as Red had gone into the garage to gather his thoughts in peace. Menial labor always calmed him down.

Kitty felt a little guilty at having upset her son over such a trivial matter; it wasn't Eric's fault that his family wanted him to stay exactly the way he was, against his best interests. Heck, Red was always going on about how Eric needed to shape up, and now the teen was doing just that. Yes, he did run away, but he was facing the consequences for his actions. And if he was standing up for himself and trying to make his own decisions….wasn't that a good thing?

The matriarch of the Forman house sighed. At least she was sure that Eric wasn't going to run away again, since Steven had gone with him. Kitty was determined to talk things over with her son when he returned. She had no idea what she might say, but still...

In the meantime, she had chores to do. After standing and brushing her hands on her skirt, Mrs. Forman went upstairs and grabbed her laundry basket from the corner of her bedroom. It was only half full, but she went to the bathroom and gathered Red's garments, filling it to the brim. Next stop was Eric's room. There were only a few pairs of pants and a handful of shirts on the floor, and they followed Red's clothes into the bin.

With the overflowing hamper in her hands, Kitty had to back up in order to nudge the door with her foot.

She accidentally backed into Eric's desk, effectively knocking several action figures (collectables, Eric claimed) and a thick envelope to the ground. This wouldn't have been so bothersome if the loaded envelope hadn't fallen open. Dozens of polaroid photos fell out and slid across the floor.

Sighing, Kitty put down the laundry basket and bent to retrieve the photos. She didn't think much of the little squares until she saw them, and a small frown came over her features.

There was Eric, along with some other people, doing various crazy things, clearly during his stint in Chicago.

There he was, holding a beer, being hugged by two different young girls. Another shot depicted him and two other men- behind bars, in jail! Eric dancing with one of those girls in a nightclub. Eric walking the streets of Chicago, candid and posed alike. The pictures made Kitty's heart hurt a little bit. He looked so grown up, so reckless. Who knows what he was doing when there _wasn't_ a camera around?

But as she collected more polaroids from the ground, the theme of the pictures seemed to change. Eric working in that record store he talked about, and attempting to play guitar. A group shot of her son and his friends (they were featured so often in these pictures that Kitty had to assume they were his friends), all smiling faces and denim and fringe. Mrs. Forman studied the other young adults in the pictures: two pretty girls, two handsome guys. They all looked older than Eric, but not by much. They certainly didn't look dangerous, but they did look very different from the average Point Place teenager.

Most of all, when Kitty looked at those photos, she noticed there was a constant element that appeared in every single picture of Eric: a smile.

He looked happier than he had in years. Even when he didn't know the camera was on him and was looking elsewhere, there was still that look of contentment and those bright eyes. Kitty had to admit, he looked relaxed, more so than he ever did around the house. And who could blame him? Red was always on his case, Donna was always present, even after they'd broken up, and his friends were always getting him into mischief. Since his birth, Kitty had known her son to be the careful sort, never a risk taker, and one who loved Point Place- family and friends included. But from these snapshots of the life he'd been living, it seemed like he had to go and do a stupid thing like running away, in order to have a vacation from all of the most stressful things in his life.

The last picture she picked up was a cute one, one that made her smile faintly. It was just Eric, grinning at the camera, sitting in some sort of reina chair. Kitty discreetly tucked this one away into her pocket. Eric would not miss it, but his mother would certainly cherish it. Red was usually the one to work the camera during family moments, and he always naturally gravitated towards Laurie. That wasn't a problem, since Eric normally hated getting his picture taken anyway, but that meant that there were very few snapshots of him lying around the house. Kitty planned on putting this one in her photo album.

...

 **Don't worry, Eric will resolve his problems with Donna, his parents, and even Hyde in the next chapter. As for the bar fight, I felt that it would be more realistic if Eric only dodged the hit. Hitting back was a one time thing (Chapter 14: Nowhere Man). I did this to bring the story full circle, and also because Eric and Hyde are going to talk about it later. I felt that of all the things Eric picked up in Chicago, besides the drugs, this was the only other thing that Hyde would find more startling and interesting. Let me know what you guys think! We're almost done!**


	19. Let It Be

**One more chapter after this one! (and then an epilogue) enjoy!**

...

The night was a rough one. After the escapade in the bar, the four teens walked back to Kelso's house and watched a movie. It wasn't exciting, but frankly Eric would do anything to keep from going home. He wanted to wait until Kitty and Red were asleep, to avoid another confrontation. Eric knew that they would have to talk about what was said, but he didn't want to do that until everyone had calmed down. No, the best time to talk would be at breakfast, after Kitty and Red had their coffee. That way, everyone was still tired, but not grumpy.

After leaving the Kelso house, Eric and Hyde walked home in silence. Steven wanted to bring up what had happened in the bar, but it was very clear that Forman didn't want to talk about it.

The lights were all off, indicating that Red and Kitty were asleep, but Eric didn't dare sneak upstairs. He wasn't sleepy, anyway. Instead he followed Hyde into the basement and sat on the couch. Steven claimed his chair and they proceeded to watch late-night reruns of the Carol Burnett Show.

"What am I gonna say to my mom and dad?" Eric asked quietly, not taking his eyes from the screen.

"Just tell the truth," his friend shrugged.

"I did that a couple hours ago, Hyde. I don't think they liked that very much."

"Well, then there isn't anything worse you could say," Steven snorted.

Eric went silent.

"Maybe they'll just kill me," he said simply.

"We can only hope, Forman," Hyde said, standing and walking to his room with a smirk.

Eric smiled gently and turned back to the show, where he sat up for hours before falling asleep.

His eyes opened to see the cross beams of the basement ceiling. From the very dim light leaking through the back door, he could tell that it was very early in the morning. It wouldn't matter how much light there was; Eric could feel that he'd only slept for a couple hours.

Sitting up with a small groan, Eric had to push his hair away from his eyes in order to see. Assuming that he had a few hours before Red and Kitty woke up, the teen decided to go for one of his walks in order to get his thoughts in order. Carefully cracking the basement door open so as not to wake up Hyde, the young Forman went up the stairs and stopped short when he saw that the garage door was open. It had been closed the previous night, which meant that Red was awake.

 _Crap_.

What time was it anyway? The sun wasn't completely up yet, which meant both of them should have been asleep. But Eric had the feeling that his parents had just as stressful a night as he did.

Well, he hadn't expected to do this now, but he couldn't avoid his father forever. With a deep breath, Eric turned the corner of the garage to meet his fate.

Red was bent over his worktable, sorting through various nails and screws when he heard his son approach. He turned to look the teen up and down, and then rotated back to his work. "Eric."

"Hey, Dad."

Red wasn't necessarily angry, but he wasn't happy. He was also at a loss for what to say. As was his son.

"Hey…I just wanted to say sorry for-"

"No, I'm sorry."

Eric swallowed all of his intended words in surprise. Did his father just apologize to him?

"Wh…what?"

Red's lip twitched. "I'm not gonna say it again."

"Right. Sorry."

Red put down his project and spun in his chair to face Eric.

"About what you said…" the older man began.

"I wasn't thinking when-"

"Actually," Red interrupted again. "It sounded like you'd been thinking that for a while."

Eric nodded and looked down in chagrin.

"Do you really feel that way? Do you hate it in Point Place?"

"Not anymore," Eric admitted. "I just needed to get out of town for a while, and I know that sounds stupid, but…" he trailed off.

"I understand the whole, 'needing to get out' thing," Red said, smirking at the pure shock on his son's face. "I may not have run off to Chicago, but I also didn't join the military _just_ to serve my country."

Eric smiled a little.

"I know I can come down on you pretty hard, but I never meant to make you hate yourself," Red said.

Remembering his words from the night before, Eric shook his head. "It wasn't you and Mom, it was just…me."

Not the most eloquent of sentences, but Red nodded nevertheless.

Eric continued. "I really am sorry that I ran away, and that I said those things yesterday."

"But you're not sorry for going to Chicago," Red said. Eric looked down in embarrassment again, but realized that he would have to stick with his guns.

"No."

"That's ok," Red said. "Don't get me wrong, I'll kick your ass if you ever do anything like that again, but I'd rather you tell me the truth."

Eric nodded again. This was awkward, but going better than he'd anticipated.

"So…about your hair."

Red looked down at his hands, then back up to his son.

"I'm sorry that I tried to make you cut your hair. Yes, you have changed a bit, but...I think it has been for the better."

Eric's eyes widened in surprise.

"Mostly," Red qualified. "I still think you look like a hippie. But you have been more mature and responsible. And you stood up for yourself. I did want that."

The teen smiled a little.

"It wasn't just about the hair," Red said.

"I get that now," Eric said. "It wasn't just about that for me, either."

Red nodded, then coughed in discomfort. "Anyway, you're still grounded, but…I'm proud of you for making it on your own for all that time."

His father wasn't smiling, but he wasn't frowning, either. There was a hint of pride shining through from behind his carefully constructed mask of disapproval.

"Thanks, Dad," Eric said, knowing this was closest thing he was getting to an "I love you."

"You're welcome," Red said, awkwardly patting his son on the back. "But seriously, if you ever run off to another city without telling us where you're going, I'll kill you myself."

...

It turned out it was just nearing six in the morning when Eric and Red finished talking. For summer, or even for the school year, this was an ungodly hour in Eric's perspective. Kitty wouldn't be up for another few hours at least, even longer if she was depressed over Eric's outburst.

The teen was exhausted, but he wouldn't be able to get a good night's sleep until things were settled between him and his parents. Actually, while he was at it, he might as well talk to Donna…things were immensely awkward between them, and their friend group would never last if they didn't at least talk it out. The one thing Eric and Donna had always had in common was their need to resolve things through discussion. Avoiding their problems helped lead to their initial breakup, and every conflict they've had since.

His dad let him go for a walk, provided he be back before breakfast, which was something Eric took full advantage of. Who knew when Red would be in such a "good" mood again.

The stroll was completely uneventful, since Eric didn't feel like taking an extensive tour of his hometown, and because almost no one was out at six in the morning. The prodigal teen knew that any conversation with his mother would be far more emotional and comprehensive than the one with Red. Kitty was predictably emotional when it came to her kids, and that included Steven.

Mrs. Forman was still asleep when Eric returned, so the teen went back into the basement and laid back on the couch. Despite his anxiety over the impending conversation with his mother, exhaustion won and the teen drifted off and ended up falling into a deep sleep.

Unfortunately, the stress of the past 24 hours triggered memories of the more... unpleasant moments he'd had in Chicago.

They say one bad experience with drugs will stick with you forever. It had only been a couple of weeks, so the flashbacks of his bad trip came back to him in full force, taking the form of a nightmare.

It was like a replay of the greatest, or rather most terrifying, hits: the crumbling walls, the warping faces, the visions, the paranoia, and the _fear_. It was horrifying, and the worst thing was, it was a punishment disproportionate to Eric's original mistake. He'd already paid for his accidental overdose during his original bad trip- why was he constantly plagued by memories and repeats?

Luckily, his whimpers and moans woke up Hyde, who lifted his groggy head in confusion. Was someone crying?

Steven didn't comprehend that it was Eric making those sounds until the young Forman cried out loudly, causing Hyde to shoot out of bed to his friend's aid. When he saw that it was only a nightmare, Steven rolled his eyes. But his annoyance subsided when he saw just how distressed Eric was.

"Hey. Hey, Forman…" Hyde said, bending over the back of the couch and roughly shaking Eric. "Wake up, man."

Eric's eyes snapped open, and for a moment he wasn't yet fully awake. He was seeing something else, something that didn't exist. It wasn't until Steven shook him one more time that Eric blinked and gasped, reentering the real world. There was that look again, that expression he'd had at the bar the night before.

"You ok?" Hyde asked, genuine concern gracing his sleepy features.

"Oh…uh, yeah. Sorry, Hyde. Did I wake you up?"

Hyde avoided the question. "Nightmare?"

Eric closed his eyes and breathed. "Yeah."

Hyde huffed and sat down in his chair, not actually wanting to talk about it, but knowing Eric would when he was ready.

"I keep getting them...just memories of some stupid stuff in Chicago…" Eric began, effectively piquing Hyde's interest.

"Like…?"

"I…don't really want to relive it," Eric said. "I do that enough already."

That explained the context of the nightmares, at least, but Hyde was more curious about the _content_.

"Did you really get that scar from a mugging?" Steven asked, trying to guess what was wrong.

"Oh, yeah," Forman said absently. "That's not what I was talking about."

Hyde decided to keep needling. "What about what happened last night?"

"You mean at the bar?" Eric said in surprise. "I just dodged a hit and the guy fell. It was lucky. After I got mugged I had to learn how...not to get mugged anymore."

Hyde grinned. That sounded like the old Eric.

"So what was the nightmare about, then?"

"I…took some stuff."

It sounded like he was admitting to robbery, but Hyde knew exactly what his friend meant.

"The details…aren't important…but I took too much on accident, and it went…bad."

Steven frowned, his heart rate quickening for just a moment. He had lots of relatives for whom "taking something" ended "bad."

"Bad" could mean anything, ranging from a little accident to a major overdose. And from Eric's expression and tone, Hyde could tell just how close his friend had come to something major.

Eric had said he didn't want to go into details, as they were clearly playing on a loop in his head. To distract him, Hyde stood and clapped his friend on the back.

"Look on the bright side," the curly-haired rebel said. "Now you get to talk to your parents."

"Actually, I already talked to my dad. Now it's just my mom…and Donna…"

Hyde's eyebrows lifted, but he nodded and stood to get dressed. "I hope your mom makes pancakes, 'cause I'm starving."

...

It made Eric feel much better to tell someone his secret. Hyde, despite his rebellious nature and his knack for getting other people into trouble, was a great confidant.

The young Forman didn't know why he felt the need to confess what had happened after the concert, and his lack of description hardly made it a real confession anyway…but it helped give him peace of mind, if only a little. He would never be able to tell his Point Place family what really happened- the whole story- they'd never look at him the same way again, and that wasn't what he wanted. He wanted a little more respect and understanding, but he didn't want to alter their perception of him. That's probably why he felt comfortable talking to Hyde about it; Steven was perhaps the least judgmental person on the planet.

Still, he had real conversations to have. One with his mother, and one that he was increasingly sure was necessary- a talk with Donna.

They'd hardly seen each other since Eric's return from Chicago, and always with their friends around. Most of the time they avoided eye contact entirely, and only spoke directly to each other on occasion. They might have broken up over a year before, but Eric knew his ex-girlfriend better than anyone, and realized that if he didn't settle this awkward tension between them, they would end up right where they started when Donna first started dating Casey. That couldn't happen again; Chicago could only fix so many things, the teens would have to do the rest by themselves.

So why was it so hard?

Eric wasn't positive who he was more afraid of apologizing to- Donna or his mother. But as he sat on the basement couch, deciding what to do next, he could hear light footsteps plodding around the kitchen above his head. The tread was too soft for Red, meaning Kitty was awake. If they were all going to be able to eat breakfast together without choking on the discomfort, then the air had to be cleared now. His decision was made for him.

With a soft huff, Eric stood and slowly made his way up the stairs.

...

Kitty had her back to him when he first opened the door to the kitchen. She was bent over the stove, clicking on the flame in order to cook whatever it was she had planned. Eric suddenly shared Hyde's wishes for pancakes, but tossed the thought out of his mind- there were more pressing issues than pancakes at hand.

"Hey mom," he said softly. His mother started slightly at the sound of his voice, and spun to find her son still in yesterday's clothes. There were the beginnings of dark circles forming under his eyes, and his exhaustion seemed to emphasize how thin he looked. (Kitty was sure that she wasn't crazy- despite what Eric or Red insisted, she could tell that the teen had lost a bit of weight.) But his downtrodden appearance was probably to his advantage, because Mrs. Forman's eyes softened at the sight of him. Like Red, she wasn't angry in the slightest. Hurt, yes. Worried, definitely. But not angry. And while Red's initial silence had come from a loss for words, Kitty's came from having so many words that it was best to keep them quiet. Otherwise, these emotions and thoughts would spill out and she would become a mess.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said, turning back to the stove and putting a skillet on it, not actually sure of what she was going to prepare.

"Can I talk to you for a second?" Eric said, not moving from his position at the door.

"Of course," Kitty responded. Usually when one of the kids came to her for help, she would drop anything she was doing, brush off her hands, and turn to them with an expectant look, and maybe a plate of cookies she always seemed to have on hand. But this wasn't Fez, or Donna, or even Hyde. It was Eric, and for the first time in his life, she didn't know how to deal with him. Seventeen years of taking after his father, and suppressing all of his feelings had finally come back to bite him the previous night. But her son's outburst revealed to the world a core of self loathing, of doubt, one that directly correlated to the sarcastic and seemingly weak exterior. Kitty was not only feeling a little guilty at the fact at Eric's claims of misery, but also at the fact that she hadn't seen those emotions bubbling under the surface.

Eric knew from Kitty's silence that he was going to have to be the first one to speak.

"I'm sorry about what happened last night…"

Red had taken up the conversation by this point, but Kitty did not. Eric shuffled his feet a moment and stared at the floor, unsure of exactly how to keep going. Kitty had remained facing the stove, though it was purely to keep her son from seeing the tears welling up in her eyes.

"I know you're probably really mad about what I said, but I didn't mean to hurt your feelings. I was being…dramatic, I guess."

"Oh Eric," Kitty sighed. "I'm not mad, I'm just…"

"Horribly, horribly depressed?" Eric supplied with a slight grin, remembering the phrase she'd used to describe her emotions when his and Donna's sex life was revealed.

Kitty laughed a little. "Something like that."

Eric cast his eyes back down, and Mrs. Forman knew it was her turn to speak.

"I'm sorry that you feel so unhappy here," she began. "I just wish you'd told us instead…instead of.." the tears in her eyes threatened to spill over. Alarmed at this, Eric reached one arm out and she took the opportunity to hug him for what must have been the thousandth time since he'd returned to Point Place.

"I didn't just run away because I was miserable," the teen tried to explain. "I did it because I just needed to…"

He let the words hang in the air, but Kitty knew the small list of reasons he had running through his mind. She didn't blame him for not sharing, as the phrase, _'I had to take stock of my life and the people and life I knew in Point Place was not going to allow me to do so effectively,'_ was just about the least "Eric-like" thing he could possibly say. But that was the gist of it.

Still, that didn't mean she was happy about it, and she finally pulled away from their hug. "You don't know how much we missed you." There was a tone of accusation in her voice, but it was the best compliment Eric had ever received. This was partially because of how honest the statement was; this was the openness they needed in order to make this conversation effective.

"I'm sorry," he offered once more. "I promise I won't run away unless I tell you first."

Kitty laughed again, but needed to one more thing. He'd been honest with her, and now she with him, but that wasn't quite enough.

"I didn't like that you'd taken care of yourself in Chicago. I'm used to that being my job."

"Mom, you know I'm always gonna need you. And not just to keep Dad off my back."

And then, since she'd paid him such a nice compliment by revealing that everyone truly had missed him, Eric said the best thing Kitty would ever hear from her son. "…I did lose some weight in Chicago. A few times, I wished you were there to remind me to eat something else. I really do need you, Mom."

It was enough to bring more tears to Kitty's eyes, but she only said, "I knew it!"

A comfortable calm settled in the kitchen, much like the sensation one has in their chest after a deep breath- that feeling of renewal that comes with oxygen spreading all throughout the lungs. Kitty and Eric smiled at each other before Mrs. Forman affectionately kissed her son on the cheek.

"Well," she said, turning back to the stove and the empty pan. "I'm going to make a big breakfast for all of us, then. Any requests?"

"Pancakes?" Eric suggested.

Kitty nodded. "With extra buttermilk," she said, looking Eric's skinny frame up and down.

Eric smiled again and went upstairs to shower and change. Valerie had been right- closure was the key. Now there was only one more person he had to settle things with, and that was Donna. He would need reinforcements for this one- which meant a call to Chicago was in order.


	20. The End

**Wow, this is the last chapter! (There is an epilogue that I'm posting right after this one, so please make sure you read it!) I'm so grateful to all my readers/reviewers and I'd love to know what you guys think of the story now that it's all finished! Have a great Thanksgiving, everyone. Thanks for sticking it out till the end. (and yes, this chapter is named after the Beatles song from Abbey Road)**

 **...**

After a hearty breakfast, the Forman family seemed to continue their day to day activities as though nothing had happened. Steven and Eric went down to the basement, where Eric tried to stall his impending conversation with Donna. He watched an hour of TV, went up to his room, considered cleaning it (anything to avoid his actual obligations), and then showered and changed for the second time that morning. He even considered asking his parents if they needed help with anything, though he knew they didn't; Kitty cleaned the house the day before, and Red was at work. He went back down to the basement, but Hyde was not in the mood for his trepidation.

"Forman, just go talk to her if it's so important. You're making me paranoid with all your pacing."

"What do I say to her?" Eric stressed.

"I don't know, man, just grow a pair and do it."

Steven was right. There couldn't be any more delaying. But before Eric went to the Pinciotti house, he had to make a call.

Up in the kitchen, the teen dialed the number he needed. It only rang once before Valerie's voice could be heard.

 **"Hello?"**

"Hi Valerie"

 **"Eric! Did you talk things over with Donna yet?"**

She never missed a beat, did she?

"Well, actually that's why I called. I'm about to go over and talk to her."

 **"Great. One second, let me get Joy on the phone."**

Eric's eyebrows lifted in surprise. "She's not at work?"

 **"She had the day off. We're watching the store while Ritch and Aaron make some new album deliveries- to that club we took you to that first night?"**

"Oh," was all Eric could say before he heard Joy's voice on the line. "Hey, Joy."

 **"Hey yourself,"** she said, and the teen smiled into the phone. He had the two people he trusted most in the world (when it came to relationship advice) on the phone. With the girls in his corner, Eric would be prepared to face Donna.

 **"So, have you seen her at all since you got back?"**

"A few times, but never alone, and we never really talked."

 **"What makes you feel you need to talk to her?"** Valerie asked.

"You were the one who told me I needed closure!" he exclaimed.

 **"No, I know, I mean what in particular needs to be said to Donna. How did you two leave things last time you saw her?"**

Eric huffed. They'd already heard the full story, why did he have to tell them again?

"It was awkward, you know that."

 **"Yes, but why was it awkward?"**

"Because she wanted to get back together with me?"

 **"Good. And you didn't want that. Now, do you think she still wants to get back together with you?"**

"I don't know."

 **"Let's assume she does,"** Joy advised. **"Would you want to get back together with her?"**

"No….?"

 **"Ok. Then if she asks, you have your first answer,"** Joy said matter-of-factly.

 **"That's right,"** Valerie agreed. **"You know why you said no. We talked about this. Just be kind, but be honest with her. You told us Donna's smart, so she'll want the truth."**

"Ok. What else do I say?"

 **"Your relationship ended badly, and you've been unresolved since,"** Joy reminded him. **"You need to talk about why you two broke up, apologize to each other, and work through it. Don't yell…not that you're one to yell anyway, but if you get upset, you have got to keep your cool. Otherwise you'll just say something upsetting."**

Recalling the previous days' outburst, Eric nodded to the empty room. "Good idea."

 **"Remember all those things you told us about not wanting to crawl back to her only to have her leave you for college? And how you understand her better now?"** Valerie asked. **"She needs to hear those things."**

 **"But just because you understand her doesn't mean you should get back together,"** Joy counseled. **"If anything, it's now a matter of her understanding _you_. You've been through so much, Eric, and you've done some pretty spectacular things. Donna might dream of going out into the world, but you _did_. And for reasons very different than hers."**

Eric's pulse picked up a tad bit. This was the most inspirational advice he'd ever heard when it came to his and Donna's relationship. He was still terrified, yes, but now he had an idea of what to say. Donna wasn't his parents, she was his ex-girlfriend. And somehow, because of that, she needed the truth even more than Red and Kitty had.

"You're right."

Hearing the finality in his voice, Joy and Valerie looked up from the phone they were sharing and smiled at each other, knowing they got through to him.

 **"You ready to face the music?"** Joy asked softly.

"No."

Valerie snorted. **"Close enough. Go make nice with your ex. I know you still care about her, Eric. You might not be meant for each other, but you definitely are meant to be friends."**

With that, the girls said goodbye. Hanging up the phone, Eric paused for a moment to gather his thoughts, then strode out the door.

...

He rode this confident high right out the door and up the Pinciotti driveway. Eric was even able to knock on the front door without fear, but froze in terror when the handle turned and the door was pulled open to reveal his ex-girlfriend.

Donna was, for her part, genuinely surprised to see Eric. They hadn't talked much since he'd gotten back from Chicago, and the redhead had assumed that he was willing to continue their awkward encounters if it meant staying friends, as she was. However, Donna was desperate to get her many conflicting thoughts out in the open, knowing they'd have to eventually discuss the events of the past few months, and the past year. Even if they hadn't ever dated, and weren't struggling with resolving a broken relationship, Donna would want to talk things over with Eric. He was her closest friend and confidant, romance aside; he had been since they were children. Even if it meant hurt feelings and heartbreak, they couldn't just awkwardly fade out of each other's lives.

Plus, as she regarded the young man in front of her, Donna's heart fluttered. Eric looked so grown up, handsome even. But he also looked skinny, tired, and young, not to mention visibly terrified to find himself on her porch.

"Hey," he said awkwardly. God, was he going to blink?

"Hey," she responded. Would her freaking heart stop pounding?

"Can I…can I talk to you?" he asked, the words coming out stilted.

"Sure," she nodded, eyes open a little wider than usual, the way they were whenever she had to talk seriously with the young Forman.

The two of them had to find an appropriate place before anything could really be said; Bob was in the Pinciotti house, Hyde was in the Forman residence, and both driveways were a little too open for such a personal event. The teens ended up behind the Forman garage, safe from onlooker or passerby.

"What do you want to talk about?" Donna began, even though she had a pretty good idea of what was on his mind.

"I…" Eric said, but trailed off. Valerie and Joy hadn't told him how to get this conversation started, and he was lost. "You look great...I haven't really gotten to talk to you in a while..."

Why was it so hard to talk to her? What was it about her that was holding him back?

"Thanks. You look great too," she said. When he didn't respond right away, she decided to start them off, despite being equally nervous as he was. "Chicago looks good on you."

"Oh, thanks," he said, looking down at himself and absently running a hand through his hair. Unbeknownst to him, it was the most attractive thing he'd ever done. "It's not too much different. My hair's just a little longer…my clothes fit better."

"Were Red and Kitty pissed?"

"About the hair? You don't even want to know-"

"Actually, I meant about Chicago," Donna interrupted gently. "They were worried sick about you."

"Were you?" he asked curiously.

She was taken off guard, but decided to be completely honest with him. "Well, yeah. Of course I was." When he didn't respond again, she asked, "Why did you leave?"

Part of her wanted to know the truth, though she was terrified that the truth would be that he'd left because of her.

"I…there were a lot of reasons," he said. Since he wasn't being completely open, she asked the dreaded question.

"Was it because of what happened in your basement?"

Eric was glad that she'd brought that up. He didn't know how to, but they needed to talk it out.

"It was part of it," he said, watching Donna's face fall. "But not like you think. It just made me think about us, and about me, and I kinda realized what my problem was…And I just had to figure it all out."

He paused but Donna nodded slightly and he continued.

"That's the main reason why I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to say…that I'm sorry."

Her eyes widened further in surprise.

"I was stupid and harsh when I turned you down. And proud. I really shouldn't have acted like that."

"No, no, you were right," Donna assured him. "I mean, I sorta jumped on you right after Casey dumped me. I would have done the same thing."

Eric nodded, grateful that she understood. "I didn't want to hurt you when I said it, I…I really care about you, Donna."

"So, what, does that mean we might get back together?" Donna asked. There was a glimmer of hope in her eyes, though she was intensely focused on keeping her demeanor casual.

"That's actually the other reason I wanted to talk to you," he said, keeping his eyes trained on the ground. "I kept thinking about why we broke up. I screwed it up that time too. But I still agree with my reasons. And I don't think we should get back together."

Donna eyes welled with tears, and she could see that this was hurting him too, but if he could be mature about this, so would she.

"Remember how you said that if we were meant to be together, then we'd be together?" he began, and she nodded.

"You said that we'd be together if we committed to it and then stayed together," she added, and he nodded back.

"Well it turns out that we were both right," Eric said, and the redhead could tell from his faint smile that he'd learned this from someone else. "And I wanted to say sorry for that, too."

This time his apology thoroughly confused her, so she waited for him to continue.

"I gave you that promise ring because we'd been fighting, and I was scared that we might break up, so I wanted to sorta set it in stone that we'd be together forever. And you didn't want that…which is why you wore the ring around your neck, right? Because you wanna go out and see the world, and be your own person….I didn't get that. I do now. I'm really sorry."

It was as if he'd hugged her: warmth spread throughout her body. Donna, despite the hurt this was bringing, felt oddly happy at this belated understanding.

"But…?" she prodded, seeing by his expression that there was more.

"But I still can't wait around if you might not come back. Because I know you're gonna go out in the world- and you're gonna love it Donna. Trust me. I did, and I almost didn't come back."

This small revelation actually came as a shock to the young woman, but there was still more, so she let him continue.

"After high school, we're both gonna go to school, and I can't wait for you, and you can't wait for me. I wouldn't want you to. I'll probably come back to Point Place one day, but who knows when that will be? We might do this all together, but…as a really wise person recently told me, we're really different, and we want different things."

Eric looked at the young woman he'd been so in love with for his entire life and suddenly realized exactly why he had been so afraid to talk to her. This was an enormous bridge to burn, and even if they one day rebuilt it, it wouldn't be exactly the same. Hell, even if they ended up married some time in the future, and things were better than they'd ever been, it would be different. There was no coming back from this- even Chicago he could come back home from.

Donna nodded, happy to finally be getting this out, but it was hard to ignore the annoyance building in her chest. After all of the jealousy and pain, Eric leaves for three months, comes back and preaches to her about why they didn't work?

"I saw some incredible relationships in Chicago…and all the good ones took work, and commitment, like I thought before. But they were so easy. Not like how we were."

"Well Eric, you're the one who was always getting jealous!" Donna said in exasperation. "Weeks of trying to sabotage my relationship with Casey, and then you're the one who leaves to start over? It doesn't matter what a jerk he was- you broke up with me, you broke me and Casey up, and now you're telling me why we're not gonna be together?"

The young Forman blanked. She was right, he was being sort of unfair. If this conversation was going to end smoothly, he had to regroup. Calling to mind his phone call with Joy and Val made Eric remember something he'd once said in the record store.

Uncharacteristically, he put his pride aside. He'd come to make peace with Donna, not to fight.

"You're right," he said. "I'm sorry."

Donna paused, once again surprised.

"I just want to keep being friends with you, Donna. I love you. Not the same way, but definitely as a friend. I don't want to lose that. I'm an idiot- I'm just trying to explain why I broke up with you and why I think we shouldn't get back together now. Before I kept thinking that our whole relationship was a waste if we weren't gonna end up together forever, but it was the best thing that ever happened to me. I'm just trying to find a way to move on from it but still keep us friends. You were right, if it's meant to be, we'll get back together one day. Just not now, because I know neither of us are ready- mostly because we both want to get out of here eventually."

Eric fell silent, satisfied after that spiel. At least today he seemed to be able to share his thoughts with others without hurting their feelings. He was still awkward about it, but the truth was, in this case, better than silence.

Donna was regarding him cautiously, and Eric worried that his big jumble of thoughts hadn't been as articulate as he'd thought. In reality, Donna was simply trying to put her own thoughts together while attempting to understand this uncharacteristic monologue Eric had laid at her feet. But she could tell that the "uncharacteristic-ness" of this little speech had made it especially painful for him to share.

Eric was beginning to panic at Donna's silence, so he stumbled on.

"Donna, if none of that made sense, or if you don't want to ever see me again, I'll understand. Just tell me and I'll leave you alone."

A tear escaped the corner of her eye, and the young woman laughed a little as she wiped it away. "No, I just…"

A couple more tears escaped, and Eric reached out for her, drawing her into a hug. This was much like what had happened with Kitty only a couple hours before, but it was more painful for the teens.

"I want to be friends too," Donna said, burying her face in his shoulder. It was true. She loved him too, and while the past year had slowly undone the bundle of feelings she had for him, there was a part of her that hoped they would eventually end up together. But in the meantime, she liked this new arrangement very much. There was no point in outlining her thoughts for him now, as he'd covered all of the bases with his speech.

They stood there for what felt like ages. Donna cried a little, though it never escalated to sobs, and Eric hugged her to him, wishing he could go back and smack his former self for causing them both so much trouble, even a year later.

Donna pulled away and smiled slightly through her red-rimmed eyes. "We're gonna have to set new ground rules."

"Then can we start over? Like really start over?" Eric asked hopefully.

"No jealousy, just friends, and we'll see where it goes from there?" she proposed.

"Deal."

With a final squeeze, Donna gave him a peck on the cheek, and he smiled.

"Fine, so if we're friends again, you have to tell me everything that happened in Chicago," she said eagerly, putting her feelings for him away.

Deciding she didn't have to hear some of the more…drug or sex-related details, Eric otherwise launched into his story, starting from the moment they parted in the basement.

...

That evening found Eric up on the hood of the Vista Cruiser, alone, staring up at the stars thoughtfully. That was one good thing about small towns: you can see the stars. In Chicago you couldn't see anything in the night sky, except for the tops of the tallest buildings. He wasn't paying attention to the stars, however. He was overturning the day's events in his head.

He and Donna had talked for hours, and while it was at times awkward, he was sure they would iron out the bumps in their reformed relationship. He had forgotten how much he liked being friends with Donna. Eric wasn't worried about how their relationship would play out- maybe one day they would get back together, when they had both changed and matured in complimenting ways. But the odds were, they would not. The teens were far too different to be romantically compatible for any length of time.

That idea didn't bother him too much, though at one time it might have torn him apart. He could still be friends with the redhead, which seemed to satisfy the fact that he did care about her. Eric could never stop caring about her- they'd grown up together! They were best friends. Donna was smart, funny, independent…she was a woman of her time.

Eric sighed. Even though he'd cleared the air with his parents and his friends, he was feeling tired and depressed. He missed Chicago, the record store, and most of all, he missed his friends. Aaron would immediately know how to make him feel better- Joy and Val would each give him a small hug and then tell him that he did the right thing. Ritch would produce a beer out of seemingly nowhere, and then let him talk it out until he felt better.

Even though he preferred the summer, Eric suddenly could not wait for the school year to start. His classes would give him something to do, and the sooner the year started, the sooner the year would end, and he could go back to his world outside of this place...The stars sure were nice, though...When he thought about it, Eric realized he wasn't too depressed at all. Eager for the things that awaited him in the future, but happy to be in Point Place. Now that he had his life and relationships somewhat figured out, this tiny little town was comforting, like coming home to your own bed after a long trip (which was, in this case, both figurative and literal).

Rolling off the hood of the car, Eric straightened and strode into the kitchen, where his mother was busy preparing dinner. She looked up when he entered, and was clearly about to say, "Hi, honey-" when he cut her off with a hug. Kitty took the embrace in surprise, but also delight, and she buried her face in his shoulder for a long minute before patting his cheek and returning to her cooking.

Eric kept moving up to his bedroom, where his little stack of polaroids sat waiting for him. The teen picked up the pictures and flipped through them fondly, studying each one and remembering the exact moment they were taken. He hadn't even known that Joy carried her camera with her so often- a lot of these snapshots were candids, which somehow made them better….They were so much more honest and true to life.

Yanking open a drawer and retrieving a roll of tape, the young Forman began to put his ten favorites on the wall behind his bed, where he could see them always.

Looking at the captured moments of his adventures made him smile. He felt a little better, but he still had one more thing to do that day.

Grabbing his cherished list of addresses and phone numbers, Eric jogged back downstairs and to the living room phone. He quickly put the call through to Chicago and prayed that someone would pick up.

" **Hello?** " a masculine voice answered.

"Hey, Ritch."

" **Eric!** " the older man called out. " **Hey, man, what's up? You've got great timing, everyone's here.** "

Eric smiled, leaning against the wall, settling in for a long conversation with some of his favorite people in the world.

"Hey, before everyone gets on the line, can I talk to Valerie and Joy real quick? I have to thank them for some advice they gave me."

...

 **The End**


	21. Epilogue: Come Together

***Six Months Later***

Kitty threw her heaviest coat on over her pajamas and robe, and slid her socked feet into the dainty pair of galoshes that sat by the door. Even though she was only going as far as the mailbox, the thick blanket of snow that sat over the town was enough to freeze a person to the bone.

If anyone else were crazy enough to be outside, they would have seen the comically bundled Kitty Forman waddling out to get her postage, then turning and jogging back as quickly as her garments would allow.

She peeled off the winter clothes and placed the mail on the counter. The hot cocoa she had on the stove was ready, so she clicked off the heat and poured the warm drink into four mugs.

Gathering the mail and the cups onto a little tray, the petite woman nudged the door to the living room open with her hip. Her three favorite men were there in their pajamas, watching whatever movie was playing. Kitty could not imagine a better way to spend a Saturday morning in January.

"Here you go, boys," she handed out the hot chocolate to Red, Hyde and Eric, then sat to sift through the mail.

"Bill...junk…ooh, a Yarn Barn catalog."

At the bottom of the pile sat a neat little envelope. It looked very official and was inscribed in clean, hand-written lettering.

"Huh…this one's for you, Eric."

The young man in question looked over in surprise. His hair was tousled from sleep, and with its length made for an amusing sight. It had been a point of contention when the Forman parents first saw it, but now Kitty found it endearing.

Eric took the letter and frowned in confusion. But when he turned it over and saw the return address, he smiled.

The little piece of card-stock inside was beautifully engraved and eggshell white, but the teen was far more interested in the words on the front.

 _"The pleasure of your company is requested at the wedding of…"_

Joy and Aaron's names were scrawled across the invitation in elegant calligraphy, causing his eyes to widen.

This certainly was a pleasant surprise. Eric made sure to keep in touch with his friends, and they'd spoken just a couple weeks prior. He guessed that Aaron proposed on Christmas Day or New Year's, since Joy had made no mention of a wedding when they all called him on Christmas Eve.

His grin widened when he imagined the girls picking out invitations that were perfectly fitting of Aaron and Joy: teacher and office assistant, but in no way fitting of Aaron and Joy: the musician and groupie.

"What is it, Eric?" Kitty asked, noticing his smile.

"Oh, uh, a wedding invitation."

"A wedding? Whose wedding?"

"Just some friends from Chicago," he said carefully. "It's for July 14."

Red looked up suspiciously, but Kitty just said, "That is so exciting!"

"So I can go?" Eric asked. Technically, he would be eighteen by that time, and graduated from high school, but the deal with his parents was that he obey their rules up until the moment he moved into his dorm at college. They kept such a close eye on him in the weeks after he returned from Illinois, afraid that he would run off again, and Eric didn't want to undo all of the trust he'd rebuilt by leaving without their permission.

Red and Kitty shared a look, and Red went back to watching the movie.

"Fine," Red conceded. "But only if you get straight A's this year."

Eric smiled and ran to the kitchen. He would send back the written response, of course, but it would be so much better to RSVP over the phone.

In his excitement, he couldn't remember the phone number to Aaron and Joy's apartment, so he just dialed for the operator.

"I'd like to place a call to Chicago, please."


End file.
